#and i was just going to draw him in his usual outfit without the blazer but yk what. why not change it up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

suspicious-whumping-egg · 2 years

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Alec: Whumper's Soiree

My piece for the @the-whumpers-soiree event! TW for noncon drugging and mild suggestive themes involving masochism.

Here's Alec's outfit, for anyone curious!

Alec wandered the party awkwardly, fiddling with the blue glow stick around his wrist and gazing at the lavish attire of the other guests. It was a bad idea to come without Dorian, he realized. He was awkward and tense and trembling for fucks’ sake.

He needed a drink.

He strode towards the bar, his ankles already twinging uncomfortably from each step in the red platformed, heeled boots he’d chosen to wear. He knew he shouldn’t have chosen those shoes when his leg already throbbed more furiously than on most days, but they were the only shoes he had that matched his outfit.

Still, he leaned on his cane a bit more than usual. He hoped it’d fit in with the stately look of the party— maybe people would assume it was nothing but a prop— yet he still felt stares burning into him as he limped across the room.

The bar was already spread with an array of drinks for the taking, which was a relief because Alec felt he’d implode if forced to draw a decision from thin air at the moment. He grabbed a glass of translucent red liquid garnished with a spiral of lemon peel, taking a tentative sip. The drink had the sharp burn of vodka, and flavors of pomegranate and citrus to take from the bitterness.

He threw back a shot of something deep blue, shuddering slightly and poorly stifling a cough.

“You alright?” The stranger behind him asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Alec flinched hard at the touch, the glass slipping from his fingers and clattering back onto the bar.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, whirling around to look at who’d addressed him. They wore a shiny sapphire blazer over a dress of the same color, and a red glow stick was looped around their wrist.

“It’s a nice party, hm?” they replied. “Just wanted to make sure nothing’s wrong. Can I show you something real quick?”

Dorian would tell me to go, Alec told himself. They seemed nice enough, and there were plenty of people around— it wasn’t as if anything bad would happen with so many witnesses. He needed to stop being such a coward and just…

“Sure,” he relented. Sure? What kind of fucking idiot—

“I mean, that’d be great,” he tried again, his head beginning to spin pleasantly. “It’s been a bit awkward since I don’t know anyone else here, I don’t like going out alone anyway… it’s been a while. I’ve been, uh…” Kidnapped, tortured, locked in some freak’s basement— “I’ve been working from home for a while and don’t even remember how to socialize, so sorry about that.”

The stranger just took his hand and led him away from the bar, across the large space, and into a smaller, tucked-away room. Their fingers were like ice against his skin. “I figure you want to be somewhere more quiet, then? So what’s your name, darling?”

He faltered, freezing in place for a moment as his heart began to pound. His vision swam from a sudden rush of terror— that, or it was the alcohol kicking in. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, do you not like pet names?” they asked, running a finger over one of Alec’s rings. “Sorry, it’s become a habit of mine to use them platonically. I meant nothing by it.”

He shrugged, tugging his hand away and making his way to an armchair in the corner of the room. He sighed softly in relief when he could finally take his weight off his bad leg, sinking back into the cushions. “Don’t worry about it, I just— uh, bad memories. I’m Alec.” He stuck out his hand awkwardly.

They shook his hand without missing a beat. “I’m Vei,” they replied. “You look gorgeous, where’d you get that shirt?”

Alec shrugged. “It’s from…. an ex, actually,” he said, twisting one of his rings nervously. There were too many questions, and he hated the way the stranger scrutinized him, as if every movement was being measured. “I’m uh, gonna get another drink…”

He stumbled up from his chair, beginning to limp towards the doorway. Yet before he even took a second step, Vei kicked out and swept his cane from the ground, and he fell forward as his leg buckled with the sudden agony of bearing his full weight. They caught him by his shoulders, wrapping an arm around his neck to force him upright. He thrashed against their grip, crying out pitifully as he threw out desperate blows, hoping one of them would hit his attacker.

“Hey now, Alec, be good for me,” Vei murmured, reaching into their pocket to tug out a syringe already full of liquid. “I wouldn’t want to have to use this.”

He stilled, his eyes widening as his heart began to pound. “Nhh— no— please—“ he choked out, forcing himself still despite his every instinct screaming at him to fight back. “I’ll— I’ll be good.” He’d be dragged off to some fresh hell soon enough, he could at least keep a scrap of dignity about him.

“You’re either smart, then, or used to this?” Vei smirked, loosening their hold around his throat. After all, he wouldn’t be as fun while unconscious. “Well, in any case, it’d be a pity to let this go to waste.” They snapped the safety on the syringe and stabbed deep into Alec’s neck, pushing the plunger in one quick motion.

Alec bit back a whimper, barely able to keep himself from shoving Vei off of him while he was still able. The drug had been delivered, he was too late anyway. He’d been doomed the moment he stepped into the room with them. He felt his hold on his body weaken, his limbs grew heavier and heavier with every passing second, and he fell limp into Vei’s grip.

“Aww, you’re adorable, all sweet and pathetic like this,” they praised, hefting him into a bridal hold and plucking his cane from the ground. “Whoever—“ they paused, lifting Alec’s left hand to examine the scars running across the back of it. They ran a finger over the brand marks, tracing the letters carefully.

“Raina must have been very lucky to get a hold on someone like you.”

They strode from the room and across the large hall of guests— notably emptier than before— and carried him through another doorway.

Nononono not again please someone care for once please— He begged wordlessly.

He glimpsed a guard nodding at Vei as the two of them passed. They know about it. Alec realized. They know and they don’t fucking care. And somehow that was worse than no one noticing at all.

Vei continued their maze-like path until they came to a room that they unlocked with a keycard.

“No one should bother us here,” they said nonchalantly as they set Alec’s limp form on the couch. He noticed a warm glow near the wall and squinted, trying to make out what it was through his doubling, swimming vision. A fireplace, he realized. And something was sticking out of it

His captor smirked. “I don’t want you to forget me just ‘cause we only have a short while together,” they said condescendingly, approaching Alec where he lay. They tugged at the tie on his shirt until it slipped open, then pulled the blouse over his head. He flinched at the touch, twitching as he attempted to recoil from them.

“So many scars,” they observed. “Someone’s been bad… no wonder you were abandoned.”

“She didn’ abandon me… I shot her,” Alec muttered, the words rolling heavily from his mouth. “Killed another of ‘em… don’ know about her, but he’s super fucking dead… an’ I‘m more than happy to carry on the trend with you…”

Vei shook their head and simply put a hand over Alec’s mouth. “You’re cuter when you’re quiet,” they said distastefully. They turned to rummage through a drawer, plucking an object out and turning back towards Alec. “Open up,” they ordered.

His eyes widened when he saw the ball gag in their hands, yet he didn’t have the energy to fight what he knew was a losing battle. He cracked his mouth open tentatively, and Vei seized the moment to shove the ball between his teeth, buckling it tight behind his head as he choked from the pressure.

“Much better,” they remarked. “Now, will you hold still for me, or do I need to help you?”

Alec gestured at the gag, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Maybe ask me before you gag me, genius.

“Aww, I guess I just have to decide for you. I won’t make it hard, I’ll help you out, pretty boy,” Vei cooed. They scooted a wooden chair close to the couch, then heaved Alec off the couch and onto the chair, twisting his arms behind his back and then looking in the same drawer for something to restrain him.

Moments later, his wrists were bound tightly with zip ties and secured to the back of the chair, then Vei knelt to restrain his ankles to the chair legs.

“Where do you want the brand? Shoulder? Chest? Back? Maybe I could do your other hand, so it’ll be even. If I did your face, I doubt your other owner would forgive me, but it’d be so fun…”

They plucked the branding iron from the fire, its tip flat and red-hot, and used a finger to trace the left area of his upper chest— barely below his clavicle. It would be a nice spot— only hidden under carefully chosen garments, guaranteed to remind him of them every day, but not overtly conspicuous. Not enough that his other captor would likely seek Vei out. He’d probably been sent to the party as a punishment, anyway, and they were more than happy to help with that.

They held the brand over his skin for a split second, and Alec whimpered at the already-painful heat radiating into his chest. Desperate, fearful tears burned at the corners of his eyes, and he squeezed his eyes shut, unable to watch.

The agony that split through his chest was all-consuming. He screamed around the gag, his stomach lurching, and his tears began to fall. He sobbed between the pained cries that escaped his lips, thrashing weakly against the restraints.

“Please—“ he tried to beg. The word came out as nothing but a strangled groan.

Vei smirked, pressing the brand deeper into his skin. The mark it left needed to be perfect, and they didn’t want to have to repeat the process in another spot.

Alec’s screams grew sharper and more desperate as the pain intensified, white-hot and searing. When Vei plucked the iron off his chest and set it aside, he dissolved into sobs once more, gasping for breath around the gag.

“Good boy,” they said condescendingly, carding a hand through his hair and leaning down to peer at the brand, fresh and red and glistening with blood. “Just one more thing, then I’ll let someone else have a turn.”

Vei pulled a butterfly knife from their pocket and flipped it open, twirling it through their fingers before pressing the tip to Alec’s sternum. “Hmm… where to begin?” they mused.

They carved a shallow line down his torso, bright and sharp and wonderful. Alec shivered, but this time in pleasure. It was a nice kind of pain, and it distracted from the throbbing in his legs and the searing ache of the brand. It was familiar.

The next cut was deeper, trailing a neat line of blood down his bicep, and he barely choked back a moan. The fear, the drugs, the burning— the bite of the knife was a balm to it all. Vei mirrored the cut on his other side, making the cut with a practiced efficiency, and he didn’t bother holding back a little gasp of pleasure. It sounded the same as one of fear, after all.

The tip of the blade was held to the hollow of his throat, and Alec squeezed his eyes shut. Yet they only ghosted the knife over his neck, his chest, his shoulders, letting the blade painlessly brush his skin ever-so-often so he wouldn’t forget the power his captor held. The blade slipped, sudden pain bloomed over his shoulder as the point parted skin effortlessly.

“Nnh—” Alec moaned around the gag, leaning ever-so-slightly into the blade. The prick wasn’t enough, the tiny cuts weren’t enough, he needed to escape. He needed the fear and helplessness drowned out, forgotten in the midst of the knife and the pain and the delight he gleaned from it all.

Vei pulled the knife away. “Dirty little slut,” they scoffed, setting the blade aside. “Let’s see if you enjoy this quite as much.”

They plucked an electric baton from the pile of weapons beside them, turning it on with the flick of a switch, and Alec’s eyes widened. His captor raised it without hesitation, grinning at the sight of their victim’s fear. And when Alec’s body seized with the searing shock of the baton, his scream was one of agony.

#blue writes #alec is a twink #alec and raina adjacent #the-whumpers-soiree #the whumpers soiree

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imagine-knowing-a-name · 2 years

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The Bartender

Summary: As a criminal, it’s best not to befriend the heroes meant to stop you. Yet you do, but they can only be kept separate for so long

Word Count: 2154

Warnings: Violence, swearing, implied domestic violence, torture?

A/N: I wasn’t sure about posting this but apparently this is what happens when I start reading mob boss Natasha fics while also wanting more villain reader x Natasha stories. This is mostly set up for the second part where all the main stuff will happen.

Part 2 - The Escape

You actually liked when they whimpered. It reminded you why you were doing this.

*thwack*

The man before you stumbled backwards at the hit, his face already bruised and his nose evidently broken.

“I didn’t mean to! I was drunk! I won’t do it again” he sobbed

“Debbie?” you asked the woman watching from behind you. She hummed in reply. “Do you believe him?”

“He’s done it to all his exes too, it’s not just me”

You shrugged and swivelled back to the mess of a man, “do you think I’m being harsh?”

He nodded and you kicked him in the face. “Well everybody here-” you indicated at the other 8 people watching the show, “I promised I would have their backs, as they would have mine. So if they have a problem, like Debbie has with you, I’ll sort it for them.”

You motioned for the others to come forward, letting them continue the beating. Carefully, you folded your sleeves back down, checking that no blood had gotten on your white shirt, and pulled your blazer back on. Ideally, you wouldn’t be wearing your bar outfit while doing this, but he’d had to be dealt with immediately.

You stood beside Debbie, resting a hand on her shoulder as you met her eye, “you’re ok?”

She nodded, “I thought he was an alright guy, so when it happened... it just came out of nowhere”

“You know to keep coming to me if any other boyfriends are like this though, right? Although I hope to god they won’t be.”

“You know I will”

“We don’t even have to kill them if you ask, though it might be hard to hold back. Could just do a warning kidnap or something” you rambled, “oh also, you can have paid time off for the next couple of weeks if you want. Maybe take a holiday and forget about him? This is a hard thing to go through.

The two of you were staring at her ex’s lifeless body now, as you wiped the blood from your knuckles and boots.

“Alexei, can you clean it up again please?” you sighed, and he nodded, moving to hide the corpse wherever he saw fit. You trusted him to do it without detection.

“I think I’ll keep working, thank you for the offer though Boss” Debbie decided, drawing your attention back to her. You raised your eyebrows but nodded,

“good work ethic, I can’t argue. Change your mind and I’ll still give you that time off though, ok?” you grinned, walking backwards before turning and unlocking the door to the staff room of the bar.

“Dealt with?” Andy whispered, you nodded. “Good. Because it’s a busy night, we need more bar staff”

“I’ll take it, most of the others will be back in a few minutes”

He nodded, not needing prompting to check you over, making sure your outfit was clean and it didn’t look like you’d just beaten a man half to death. You know, usual co-worker things. “You’re good” he confirmed,

“Thanks Andy”. With that, you pushed through the doors and found yourself behind the bar. A quick scan of the room and you saw that all of the tables were occupied, mostly by regulars. You smiled at the ones you recognised at the bar, greeting them quickly before taking their drinks orders.

With your help, the crowd at the bar began to go down, drinks flowing freely and a few meals being sent around the room. It was at this point, when your bar was only really half full, that your favourite, and probably riskiest, regulars walked in.

They’d first come in almost two years ago. Obviously you had recognised hem, the six Avengers, world renowned heroes and saviours of New York City. Given the occupation you were involved in, you had been overcome with nerves when they walked in. Which you played off as admiration for their work, offering them a free drink, as if you were just some regular server and not the boss of a criminal smuggling business.

Apparently appreciating the gesture, they soon began to frequent the bar. After the first time you learnt to control your nerves, and they appreciated the normality you brought as you served them. If only they knew.

Either way, you clearly went too far with your friendliness towards them in your establishment. Stark had given you his number (a personal hotline to him in case you were attacked), Natasha had invited you to the tower for self-defence training, (because you couldn’t just rely on Tony) and you’d had to pretend you were a novice. The others had just invited you to meet at various times for a bit of friendly company

So yeah, you may have gone a bit too far, but you, a crime boss, now considered the world’s mightiest heroes as some of your best friends.

Keep your enemies close and all that, right?

They’d grown over the years, and now 7 of them walked in. Thor and Bruce had apparently disappeared, but they made up for it by adding new members; Rhodey, Sam, and Wanda. So that was the bunch you greeted that night.

“Look who it is, my favourite group!” you grinned, “usual drinks?”. They all nodded, greeting you in return as you whipped up the same drinks you always served them.

“How’s it going tonight?” Steve asked,

“Oh, you know, it’s been pretty busy. Lot of people, but not many servers tonight”

“Well serve yourself a drink on me” Tony offered and you laughed,

“Maybe when my shift is done”

“Anyways, not much interesting on my side, but how about you guys? There’s always some exciting story” you probed and the group laughed.

“Clint got a little bit drunk at Stark’s party last Saturday” Natasha smirked,

“Hey! It was only because Nat decided to put shots of vodka in my beer”

“Oh, do you not like that? I guess I should give you a new one of those then” you joked, pointing at the beer you’d served him earlier, getting you a high five from Tony.

“Very funny” Clint grumbled

“You’re right, it was” Natasha nodded, “anyway, I’ve got a long mission starting in a couple of days, so I need the fun when I can get it”

You raised an eyebrow, “what’s the mission?”

“that’s classified sweetheart” she said, pursing her lips in an apologetic smile. Patting your cheek too for good measure.

“Worth asking” you grinned back, sliding over another shot of vodka, “enjoy the night then”

—————————————————

Your bar was a lot bigger than it seemed. There was the side that faced the street (the actual bar that customers came into), which had doors leading to toilers, the staff room, and the kitchen. But there was a section between your bar and the office block behind it that shouldn’t exist. That was where you operated.

There was only one other way into the building, and that was a warehouse 5 blocks away that had been linked to the basement. It was also where you kept the ‘stock’ of the business.

You had a talent, some weird genetic mutation at birth, that allowed you to become invisible at will, and you used it well. Sneaking into well guarded museums with ease and returning with whatever you thought would sell for the most. Usually the stock would be gone and on its way to the highest bidder by the time officials even noticed it was missing. It did mean your business was growing quickly in notoriety, and there was another New York group which wasn’t happy about that.

Night after night they sent in spies, either aiming for information or for your death. You weren’t sure, they’d all been caught before they became a threat.

Now here you were, pummelling the absolute shit out of the latest one while Alexei went through the set questions. Physically, he was more intimidating than you, and the arrangement worked well. To anyone not in the know, he was the obvious boss, and you were just a lackey.

“What did you come for?”

“I’m saying nothing”

A fist to his face. The spy, true to his word, simply glared at you, so you took it further. Pulling a knife out, you ran it along his skin, watching him squirm as it went deeper. He was clearly a new recruit, and you could tell he’d give with just a little bit more pressure.

“We can get the electrics out if you’d prefer?” Alexei offered, “or are you more of a fan of waterboarding? whips? we have a great one here”, he grabbed a long rope whip from the table, shards of glass threaded through it. He handed it to you, one lash was all it took to get answers.

“They asked me to kill you” he whimpered, eyes on Alexei, “hoped that taking down the boss would take down the organisation. They they could take the stolen items.”

He’d switched to saying ‘they’ you noted, not involving himself in the organisation. Coward.

“And how did you plan on doing that?” Alexei continued, undeterred, “you’re unarmed”

“Gather information, report back. They’re planning a full attack tomorrow night”

A snitch and a traitor; still, worked in your favour. Alexei sent you a look, silently asking if you needed more. So you stepped up, “If you still think he’s the boss then you’ve done a pretty bad job” you concluded, raising your gun and shooting the spy in the head.

“Do you want to step down?” you asked Alexei immediately afterwards, "being the fake boss seems to have put a target on your head”

“We always knew that would be the case, it’s what I signed up for” he nodded, “besides, it’s better for you to take out the threat from the side-lines rather than as the target”

“As long as you’re ok with it”

“I am”

You gave him a curt nod, “alright, I guess clean up is needed”

“On it Boss”

—————————————————

Your business ran on many levels, there was the top crew, the ones who were practically family, that made up a dozen members. Each one of them had their own team of hired help; those members of course had to go through rigorous checks, but they were still kept in the dark, they didn’t even know Alexei wasn’t the true boss.

The next day you were in your office, surrounded by the most trusted, briefing them on how to prepare for the potential onslaught that night. “Anyone suspicious and you bring them to me, ok?” they nodded, but there were still questions.

Alexei stepped forward with the most important one, “are we shutting the bar?”. You grimaced, the question was most of what you’d been thinking about since you got the advanced warning.

“Keeping it open puts the staff and customers at risk. But if we shut it they might suspect something is up, maybe plan to attack another night, and we’d lose our only lead on them” you explained. “So we have to stay open”

“Anyone volunteering?” you asked with a sigh, “we’ll run a skeleton crew”. You smiled when four of them accepted, showing no hesitation. “I’ll pay you a bonus for the risk” you promised, waving them off to get ready; hopefully four would be enough.

“Alexei and I will be here, keeping an eye on cameras. So make sure your radios are on. The rest of you take your groups and tell them the plan, patrol the building, make sure there’s guards on all the doors” you instructed the remaining members, waiting for verbal agreements before you shooed them away to prepare. As soon as they were gone, you stood and switched places with Alexei. He was given the seat, while you stood watch from behind, the two of you monitoring the wall of security cameras for every door and hallway in the building.

6PM: “Boss, we’ve got someone, claims she’s a new recruit but I don’t recognise her”. You gave the signal to bring her up, and Alexei gave the order.

You took a more guarded stance behind Alexei’s chair, watching the figure be escorted up the floors by Ralph and a few members of his team. A bag covered the infiltrator’s head, restricting how much of the building’s layout they could learn about, although not much could be done to hide the route to the office.

It wasn’t long until Ralph and his team brought the person in, removing the bag on Alexei’s command.

“oh fuck” you muttered. You certainly recognised the figure, as did Alexei from the way he tensed. She was blonde now, but it was undoubtedly her. And when her eyes adjusted to the sudden change in light and locked onto yours, it was clear she recognised you too.

Alexei quickly motioned for the other to exit, leaving just you two, Ralph... and Natasha Romanoff.

This made matters more complicated.

Part 2

#natasha romanoff #mobboss!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff & reader #mcu #marvel #natasha romanoff imagine

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timextoxhajima · 3 years

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Love Me A Little Less: Chapter 6 - Misogynist

LOVE ME A LITTLE LESS CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Member: (3rd person pov) arranged marriage au with Lee Juyeon

Genre: angsty wangsty

Taglist: @hyunjaethereal @sunwoowuvbot

“Don’t offend me.”

“No, I think the best course of action for HERA & ARTEMIS is that we not only branch out to collaborate with other companies, but also to make um… say, connections with non-profit organisations. Orphanages, charities, you name it. The publicity HERA & ARTEMIS will get after being recognised as a community-caring brand, a brand that cares no less than it’s maximum ability to about children, the elderly and the disabled.”

“Charitable. I like it,” The Resources CEO of The Board nods with a wine of champagne in his glass. even at her own wedding, all the bride can think of is work. All she cares about is how to make sure HERA & ARTEMIS is heard in the crowd of attendees to her wedding. “Anyway, a gorgeous wedding, I must say. What made you have it at home? I’d expect that your father and brother would have wanted it somewhere more… ravish, y’know, more extravagant.”

It takes some effort to hide her disgust at the thought that her father had a say over where she wanted to have her wedding.

“Of course not,” The service smile almost feels surgically implanted into her face, even Jang Won herself is put off. “Juyeon and I have already planned this right off the bat, have it at Hera’s Manor.”

“Why not at the Lee House? I thought the Lee’s would’ve preferred it there, you know, husband and all.”

Jang Won could’ve slapped the glass of champagne out of his grasp if she wanted to, then probably break the bowl off the stem and send it into his eye.

Misogynist.

“We—”

“The Lee House doesn’t have the facility and resources to hold a wedding now,” Juyeon comes round with a cup of whiskey, cheeks slightly pink from the alcohol as he rounds his arm around Jang Won, pulling her into his torso and even bothering to press a kiss into her temple. “It isn’t as presentable as you’d expect it to be. Hera’s Manor is well-kept and it looks like it’s prepped for a party every other day.”

Juyeon smiles politely, eyes drifting from the Resources CEO to Jang Won, and for a split second, Jang Won might just feel somewhat impressed he stood up for her. “You know what they say, if you need something done, a lady will do it fast and efficient.”

The Resources CEO provides the newly wedded couple an awkward smile, not really able to spit out a proper response to Juyeon’s rebuttal.

“Anyway, love, your brother’s asking for you in your office. Some administrative issues that cropped up,” Juyeon pulls away and turns his body, feet already pointing away from the Resources CEO. “If you’ll excuse us, Mr Teuk.”

Juyeon lowers his head as a sign of respect, though he probably doesn’t mean it. He gently tugs on Jang Won and leads her out of the courtyard.

“Please tell me there aren’t any actual administrative manners Younghoon wants to talk to me about,” Jang Won seethes as she walks up the yard stairs and into the main hall.

“‘Course not,” Juyeon subtly shakes his head. “He’s having the time of his life actually, getting acquainted with the other members of The Board. Have you always been the one helping him with Artemis?”

“In his defence, I don’t let him handle anything. It’s a subsidiary of HERA & ARTEMIS so I might as well take things into my own hands and worry about it on my own.”

“Well, maybe you should let him figure his hand out at things. He doesn’t legally own Artemis for nothing.”

Jang Won turns to shoot a look of distaste at Juyeon.

“What?” He frowns, forehead creasing. “I’m literally telling you to split your workload.”

“I don’t need to split my workload. I’m doing fine on my own and frankly, I’d rather he sit back and let me do most of it so that at least I know what the Hell’s going on with my companies without worrying about any secrets.”

Juyeon rubs the back of his neck and shoves his hands into his pockets. “In other words, you don’t trust your brother.”

“Please,” She walks off first, heading for her office where she usually seeks refuge amongst her bottles of whiskey and bourbon and documents. “Just because I love him for being my brother doesn’t mean I should trust him with my finances.”

“You’re literally born into a family of fortune. Even if he does mess up, you’d be able to recover from it. The consequences would mean absolutely nothing to you.”

Jang Won pushes the heavy doors of her office open, admiring the late-morning sun that’s spilling all over her chair and her desk.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong, pretty boy. I choose not to rely on whatever I have at birth because I always felt like whatever my dad had was just handed to him,” She reaches for the ice bucket and picks up a ball of ice, dropping it into the whiskey glass, then coats most of its surface with bourbon. “But God forsake my hard work, huh? I guess if hard work really did pay off then I wouldn’t be standing here, in a wedding-lunch dress, talking to my husband.”

Juyeon raises both brows and throws himself into one of the sofa seats, the clinking of the whiskey decanter echoing ever so slightly throughout the office. “Ever heard of a holiday? You should go on one.”

She scoffs with exaggeration, the gentle swishing of the alcohol meeting the ice and the glass gleaming like liquid honey under the sunlight. “Yes, because I’m just like you, the one who would run away from the responsibilities he was born into whenever he doesn’t want them.”

“I’m sorry,” Juyeon grimaces, standing up and allowing the silvers of his suit glimmer as he walks into where the sunlight kisses the floor. “Which toe did I step on? I just pulled you out of a situation you would’ve otherwise not wanted to be in.”

“Unfortunately for you, I didn’t need pulling out. I could’ve handled myself right there and then. It’s been like that for as long as I can remember - I don’t need myself a nanny to save me,” Cocking one of her brows, she gives a wry laugh before downing the shot of whiskey.

Juyeon is in disbelief in her ability to perceive gratitude - or rather, a lack thereof.

“Maybe your father came back to save HERA & ARTEMIS from your terrible people’s skills, ever thought of that?”

“Wrong again, pretty boy!” She peels the glass off her lips and stares at the lipstick mark. “I’m perfect with the people I wanna be perfect with to get what I want, and when they are of no use to me, I’m well aware I treat them less than average.”

“There it is,” He sneers, stopping right before her as she finishes the last bit of her whiskey. “So, you’re a hypocrite.”

A smirk draws across her lips. Jang Won almost slams the glass back down in the tray of other glasses and the whiskey decanter. “And I’m proud of it. There’s nothing you can do about it, Lee Juyeon. You agreed to play this game my way and now that we’re wearing matching rings. I’m afraid you’ll have to deal with it.”

Jang Won squares up and jabs a finger into his shoulder. But Juyeon catches her wrist and holds it in place, causing her to grunt and attempt to writhe her way out, but to no avail.

“Kim Jang Won, you listen to me and you listen well. Just because I agreed to play this game by your rules, doesn’t mean I’m your puppet. We both know who will be the more powerful one in May, so my advice?” By now, Juyeon’s nose is almost in her eye. He’s not even bothering to look at her.

“Don’t offend me.”

Jang Won finally snatches her wrist out of his hold when she feels his grip loosen. Huffing, she stomps past him, shoulder bumping into his arm for good measure as she leaves the office.

Younghoon just about catches his sister rolling her eyes so hard, she was this close to hurling a string of vulgarities at the wooden of her office door. “Hey, what were you doing in your office? People are looking for you!”

Without a word, her eyes are locked with his in frustration.

“What?” He frowns.

She thinks for a moment.

She can ruin him and destroy him by asking him to take Artemis for himself before the deal is due in June. Ask him why he was so useless and had his little sister do everything for him, never once really fighting to take ownership of a company legally his.

“Nothing,” The brush-off is sharp and distinct as she waves him off, turning to walk into the main hall. “Go get yourself more sponsors before June, will you? I’m not sure the same people would want to keep in touch with HERA & ARTEMIS after the separation and collaboration is made official.”

Juyeon returns home later that evening, still wearing the fourth outfit of the day. It was a blue suit with a black collar and details and all he wants to do is soak himself in his bath. Maybe he could go to sleep safe and sound, and he’d wake up single and free to do whatever he actually wants to do.

He walks down the entrance corridor, sick of all the staged portraits of him and his family hung on the walls. The main hall comes into sight, past the stairs on his right, where the television was still broadcasting bits and pieces of his wedding earlier. In the million-dollar couch sat his father, eyes and ears attentive to the screen.

“Was it so entertaining that you have to watch it again? I know you were there this afternoon.”

His father turns his head subtly. Juyeon pulls off his blazer and removes his watch, laying the heavy clothing over his forearm as he scans the broadcast.

“The Lee-Kim wedding saw nothing short of nothing but a perfect list of investors, sponsors, fellow colleagues and leaders of several enterprises...”

He turns to look at his father, obviously still somewhat hurt that he hadn’t been officially invited by his son - Mr Ro had sent out mandatory invites to family members.

“It was a gorgeous wedding.”

“Yeah, well...” Juyeon shrugs lifelessly, already turning around to head for the stairs. “I had no say in it. It was her wedding and I don’t care, so.”

“The Board is expecting you to go on a Honeymoon, you have that in place, right?”

Juyeon gives a dry chuckle, already on the first step of the stairs. “Yeah, we’re going to Guatemala.”

“Guatemala?” His father shifts his attention from the television and looks at Juyeon, halfway up the stairs. “You’re just finding a chance to go diving in Belize, aren’t you?”

His son doesn’t falter, only continuing taking each step towards the second level, in hopes that he wouldn’t have to listen to his father criticise the only thing Jang Won let him do. At least it was some kind of freedom.

“Juyeon-”

“Mom better not be in my room.”

The second floor corridor greets him with even more portraits of his family, most of the pictures of him when he was younger. He halts right outside his door when he notices light seeping out from beneath.

Sighing with exasperation, he lays his hand on the door handle, readying himself to listen to his mother ramble. But his attention drifts from the cream-painted mahogany to the low cabinet next to him, the blue shade of the stingray shining under the hallway lights.

There was a ceramic statue of a standing coral frame with the stingray within the arc, and on it engraved ‘Hawaii 2018′. He smiles, remembering only fond memories of seeing a huge stingray while diving. Sunwoo had been dragged out by him - one of those times when he fought with his parents and couldn’t stand being in the same house as them. He covered travel cost and hospitality fees, ensuring Sunwoo’s parents (whose family was also on the smaller arm of The Board’s administration) that he’d take care of them.

Juyeon got an earful from his parents when he came back. Young Jin Seol had been the one to tell his parents his whereabouts, solely because he had arranged for her to make sure it seemed like he was still doing his job at the office. So, of course, when his parents walked into office and she was doing his work for him, they had threatened to fire her.

But Juyeon knew he was indebted, and told his parents, “No Jin Seol, then you can forget about me taking over Apple-Korea.”

Sucking a deep breath, Juyeon shakes himself out of his mental trance, and pushes the door open.

The back of his mother seems so fragile on first sight, and he’s well aware she’s getting on in her years. For a split second, he feels emotional, possibly feeling some tinge of remorse at how horrible of a son he’s been.

Then he remembers that she’s had an abundance of spa treatments, country-club lunches with her fellow rich moms after a game of gold or tennis, and a bunch of other things she definitely didn’t need. He wish he could tell himself otherwise, that she had been born into this life and thus living anything else dissimilar to this would be tiring on her.

But he can’t.

“I’m surprised you bothered to come home,” She says without looking at him. Juyeon rests his blazer on the back of the single sofa seat that’s angled to face the one she’s sitting in. “I was wondering if I should send some pajamas over to Hera’s Manor.”

Juyeon sits in the crystal encrusted sofa seat, crossing his legs and eyeing his mother fiddle with the wedding band on her finger. It reminds him of his own.

“You realise you’re the one who bound me to the Kim family, don’t you? You’re the one who said okay to marrying Kim Jang Won, not me.”

“It was for your own good.”

“For mine or for our family?” Juyeon leans back in his seat and interlocks his fingers, placing them in his lap. “What else do you really need from the Lee family that you simply cannot take your eyes off? Their money? HERA & ARTEMIS? What?”

Only now does Juyeon notice the cup of tea on the small coffee table infront of them.

“A child,” She says, like it was the most casual thought one could have, before taking a sip of tea. Her son shuts his eyes then opens them with his eyebrows as far up his forehead as he can.

Providing a dry, tortured chuckle, Juyeon blinks multiple times, wishing that it was a condition with his hearing and not just something his mother had just spat out.

“A what?” Juyeon pulls apart his hands and leans forward, fists now clenched and pressed into the cushion he was sitting in.

“You heard me,” She places the tea cup down and refuses to look at him. “A child would mean inheritance. The Lee family will inherit the wealth of the Kims and it could possibly start a new system. It could rewrite The Board. We could become The Board.”

“What the-” He finally stands, barely choking out some kind of laughter filled with confusion and utter disbelief. “You want a child just to bond our families together and take over The fucking Board? My God, why are you so obsessed with The Board?”

“Because The Board is everything! No board, no us, no wealth and comfort like the kind we raised you in-”

“Does it look like I wanted it?!” Juyeon runs his hands through his hair, pulling his hair back and stretching his hairline.

“You ingrate-”

“So I am an ingrate. But I had no choice, I have no life of my own because guess who’s making my decisions for me? You! If I don’t even have the ability to make my own choices then how do I even qualify as an ingrate?!”

She’s silent, and very much staring at the words spewing out of her son’s mouth now. She huffs through her flared nostrils, picking up the saucer and the tea cup and standing. “I don’t know what kind of ideas Kim Jang Won has planted in your head but you are still part of the Lee family and-”

“For Gods’ sake, Jang Won has nothing to do with any of this! In fact, she can’t care less about what I’m doing, so long as it doesn’t change the course of this entire situation. If anything, she’s playing it safe; she’s playing it against her father, and not us,” The veins on Juyeon’s hands are about to rip through his skin when he cannot close his fist any more. “Her father literally climbed out the grave... and you took this chance to capitalise on that in order to make our family richer the moment you heard of The Board’s announcement regarding HERA & ARTEMIS’s ownership complications...”

Juyeon shakes his head subtly, realising that he was panting from the sheer force of anger and disgust rushing through him.

“And she’s younger than me. Lost her mother, lost her father, who only comes back to take what she built? You know, for a woman under The Board, I’d think you’d understand what she’s gone through. I thought... I thought you would’ve known how hard it is to be the successful one in the family but cannot pass down the family name... but everytime I think the world of you, and I think you’d act a little more like the woman I thought you are... you prove me wrong.”

Juyeon glares down at her, hands holding the teacup in the saucer with some kind of disapproving, disappointed look of fury in her eyes. Then he sighs heavily, hands rushing to pick up his blazer and storms out the room before she can.

“Leave Kim Jang Won alone, or else I’ll refuse Apple-Korea. By then, you can forget about all your stupid green bills and diamond rings.”

And with that, he slams the door shut.

Juyeon appears along the second floor hallway, visible from the first floor’s living hall, where his father was still watching the news of his wedding earlier on in the day. Of course, the door slamming would’ve caught his attention, so when his son rushes down the stairs while putting his blazer back on, the elder man removes himself off the couch.

“Juyeon! Where are you going?!”

“Don’t call me, and don’t even think of calling Hera’s Manor,” He opens the heavy front door with such determination, then slams it harder than he intends to. By the foot of the stairs leading down to the pick up point by the entrance, his two bodyguards are taken aback and flustered when Juyeon appears again.

“Uh, can I get Mr Bong around-”

The instruction through the guard’s earpiece is cut short and interrupted abruptly as Juyeon unplugs the earpiece from the transmitter.

“Mr Lee-”

Juyeon doesn’t hesitate to do the same with the other guard. By now, his father has gotten the front door open and yelling at him with disapproving scolds.

Rushing around the hood of the Porsche, Juyeon steps into the drivers’ seat - an unlikely sight, since he’s been chauffeured around most of the time.

“What in the world are you two doing? Stop him from leaving!”

The vehicle revs to life, and Juyeon fumbles under the passenger seat’s compartment box and every crook and cranny in the front of the car.

“Juyeon!”

He winds up the window on the driver’s side and locks the entire vehicle just as his father reaches the window. He tugs on the handle angrily, almost able to shake the entire car with his aggression.

“Juyeon, don’t you dare!”

Then, he finds it. A tracking device attached to all the cars his family owns.

Ripping it off the surface it was stuck into, he rolls down the window on the passenger’s side and hurls it out, straight into the arms of one of the bodyguards.

“Juyeon!”

He starts up the car and pulls it into drive, forcing his father to back off as he moves off.

#multifandomnet #juyeon fanfic #juyeon imagines #juyeon scenario #juyeon #lee juyeon #the boyz juyeon #tbz juyeon #the boyz fanfic #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #tbz #the boyz #love me a little less

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ofstarsandvibranium · 4 years

Text

Heart Shaped Cookies

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day and it seems that everyone has plans except for you and Spencer.

A/N: S9 Ep15 had Valentine’s Day so I was suddenly inspired by this.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my lovelies!” Garcia exclaimed as she waltzed into the bullpen covered head to toe in red and hearts. She passed by each agent’s desk, placing down a pink or red heart shaped cookie on a white napkin covered in hearts.

“You know before the holiday was named after St. Valentine, it was actually called Lupercalia, a Roman festival that celebrates the coming of spring and fertility rites. Single men would randomly pick a woman’s name, leading them to marriage and eventually-”

“Alright, kid. I think that’s enough. Thanks.” Derek clasped a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, taking the young doctor’s cookie from him, and biting into it.

“Hey!” Spencer cried out with a pout and you rolled your eyes at Derek’s smirk.

You got up from your desk and handed Spencer your cookie, “Here, Spence,” and then you flicked Derek’s ear, “Don’t be mean!”

Spencer smirked as he bit into the cookie while Derek rubbed his ear.

_________

As fate would have it, there was no case that needed to be solved today. So everyone remained at their desks, doing paperwork until it was time for them to clock out.

Heading to the elevators, you and the team made idle chatter.

“You and Savannah have anything special planned?” you ask Derek.

He gives you a little smirk, “Yeah. This year I’m making us dinner and we’re gonna watch some romance movies. A casual thing this year. What about you? Got a date?”

You shook your head, “Nope. This is probably my sixth Valentine’s Day alone, which is fine. I’ll probably make myself some chocolate covered strawberries, have a nice bath, and watch some romcoms.”

Derek looks over your shoulder, nodding at Spencer, “What about you, pretty boy? Got anyone special you’re treating tonight?”

Spencer gives his tight lipped smile and shakes his head, “Not really, no. I was actually going to a film festival that’ll be showing some classic French romance movies,” his eyes go to you and you see a sudden hesitation within him, “You can come with me, if you want, Y/N. Some of the films might not be subtitled but I could whisper the translations to you.”

You shrugged, “Sure. It beats staying home by myself.”

Spencer’s face immediately brightens up, “Great! I’ll, uh, I’ll pick you up in an hour?”

“Sounds good, Spence.” you give him a smile and a nod and join the other agents into the elevator.

Since there wasn’t much room left, Spencer and Derek stayed behind to catch the next one. You give them a wave as the doors close, leaving the two agents by themselves.

“I see you, Reid. I see you.” Derek grins, giving Spencer a nudge.

He gulps, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” his eyes are focused on the elevator, silently hoping for the next one to appear any time now.

“Reid, come on, man. I see the way you look at them. You like them, don’t you? Tonight’s your chance to make a move!”

Spencer shakes his head, “No, I can’t. We’re just friends.”

“You can be more, that is, if you get your head out of the gutter and make a move. Soon enough, someone will swoop in and sweep them off their feet and it’ll be too late for you.”

He gulps again, feeling the nerves starting to get to him, “But what if they don’t feel the same way? I really like them, Derek, but I value my friendship with them a lot more.”

Derek shrugs, “That’s just a risk you have to take.”

On cue, the elevator arrives with a ding and the doors open to welcome the two agents.

________________

You decided to not go too overboard with the red and pink for tonight. Instead, you settled for a maroon v-neck, black jeans, black converse, and a black leather jacket.

Spencer had arrived a little earlier than expected, but you were nearly ready. You quickly let him in, insisting he’d take a seat and you’d be done in a few minutes.

He sat on your couch, reading through one of your coffee table books when you came back out, “Okay. Let’s hit the road!”

He looks up and he feels his breath hitch. This look is something he usually doesn’t see you in, but you look amazing nonetheless.

You chuckled as you pointed, “We kinda match!”

He switched out his black button up for a maroon one and changed his blazer for a black cardigan. His converse remained the same. Looking down at his outfit and then at yours, he softly smiles and says, “So we do.” and he doesn’t mind it one bit.

_____________

“‘I don’t want you to give up. I want you to fight for me. For us.’“ Spencer murmurs the translations into your ear.

The closeness of him, of his lips to your ear causes goosebumps to appear all over your body and you hope he doesn’t know.

There isn’t many people in the theater. Honestly, you expected a low turnout, but that’s okay. You’re still enjoying your time with Spencer. Despite not knowing what the characters are saying, you’re fully invested in the movie. It helps that Spencer is translating, but even without him, you’re sure you could figure out what’s happening just by using your profiling skills.

“He can’t just give up on her! He said he loves her and now he’s just gonna let her go?!” you hissed causing Spencer to chuckle.

“He’s only doing what she asked.”

“Sometimes some people say things that they don’t mean. They just want to see how willing their partners to fight for them. Reverse psychology, Spencer.” you give him a knowing look and toss a piece of popcorn into your mouth.

Spencer quietly laughs as he leans in a little bit closer, “I’m really happy you came with me tonight. Sure beats being alone on a day like this.”

You sigh, “I know what you mean.” you glance down at the armrest and see Spencer’s hand resting there. You decide to place your hand on top of his and say, “I’m really glad I came with you too, Spence.”

You two are just staring at each other, the light from the movie screen illuminating each other’s features. There’s a pull that’s drawing you to each other, faces getting closer and closer until-

Rrrrring! Rrrrring!

“Sssshhh!” a couple hiss from some rows ahead of you.

Both of you whisper out apologies as you scramble for your phones. You both dig them out and see that it’s work.

“Of course,” you murmur. You gather your things and follow Spencer out of the theater and into the lobby, “Just once I’d like to have a nice night go uninterrupted. Just once! Can’t bad people just put a pause for a day or two? Or twenty? I mean I love what we do-”

“Y/N.”

“-but man I’m really starting to get tired of-”

“Y/N.”

“-of people doing bad things and ruining my-mmf!” you minor rant is silenced by lips on yours.

Your eyes widen when you realize that Spencer is kissing you and, soon enough, you find yourself kissing him back. Eventually, you both pull away for air, leaving you two to look at each other with puckered lips and surprised looks on your faces.

“Well...that happened,” you stated nervously.

“Sorry. I just-I’ve been wanting to do that all night and I was going to but then we were interrupted by the call and-mmf!” It was this time that Spencer was cut off by your lips and you two are kissing again.

“Hey! Take it somewhere else, will ya?” the security asks as he passes you two, causing you to break apart once more.

“Right. Sorry,” you give him a sheepish look and pull Spencer out of the lobby and through the exit.

As you’re walking to Spencer’s car, he stops you for a moment, “I like you. A lot. More than a friend, if you didn’t get that from the kiss, well, both kisses.”

You snorted and smiled at him, “I like you too, if you didn’t get that from both kisses either.”

He shyly smiles at you and then opens your door for you, “So, uh, redo after we finish this case?”

“I’d love nothing more,” you answer before he closes your door and rushes to his side of the car.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds

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hope-remnant · 3 years

Text

The Practice Run Killing Game

Content Warnings: guns, violence, murder, manipulation, ableism, blood, weapons, bullying mention, and Dangan Ronpa, which is probably it’s own warning. This is literally 85% murder. 6.5K words.

My talentswap AU now has its own fanfic! for a full list of my talentswapped characters click [here]

Hifumi never thought school life could be so great. He grinned to himself in his dorm, pushing off the floor with socked feet to spin his desk chair back and forth. The pale blue light of his computer’s screen reflected on his glasses, which he pushed up with one finger and a smirk before typing out a last message to his friend’s stream chat.

JusticeHammer: I’ll be back in a few hours!! Have fun Hina!! <3

In his headphones the stream audio played, ambient underwater sounds from the game itself and the excited voice of his friend, the Ultimate Gamer.

“Bye Justice! You other mods better be on your best behavior now that the boss man is gone, okay?” Hina grinned up at the webcam from her side of the screen, waving with one tanned hand before returning to her game, talking about the strange atmosphere of an alien world.

The chat scrolled by as well, people from all over the world typing out goodbyes to him. Thousands of strangers, but dozens of friends as well, fellow moderators who helped wrangle the random people into order, who would play video games with Hifumi, who would message him and call him.

It was a far cry from where Hifumi had been in middle school, and he couldn’t help but grin again, shaking out his hands as if to shake out an excitement that clung to his bones, that stayed in his heart when he remembered he had friends.

His phone dinged with a soft chime, and he couldn’t help the quiet huff of amusement as he flipped open his phone and typed quickly.

Sakura: Where are you going Hifumi? Do you need assistance?

Hifumi: school council meeting! a weird late night one, no emergencies, dont worry sakura!

Hifumi: see you tomorrow, love you!!!!! :)

Hifumi stashed the phone in the pocket of his blazer- he was unsure what to wear to this sudden late night meeting, when before they had all been just after classes let out. He decided to play it safe and wear his school uniform.

Standing up from his chair, he made sure to plug in his laptop, the stream still running on it, and turned to leave his room. He had seen the interior of the main course’s dorms, they were triple the size, with their own ensuite and everything.

His own dorm was small, the wall space barely enough to fit his multitude of posters. There was a complimentary cork board as well, full of fanart people had made of his little sona, a kirby with a hammer and glasses, which he printed out and posted up on his wall as big as he could get them.

He pulled once on the lapels of his blazer, making the fabric settle properly on his shoulders and snatched his binder of notes he used in student council meetings. He made sure to lock his dorm on the way out, still smiling softly to himself. He toyed with the small ring of keys in his hand, dorm room key swinging as well as a number of soft cute keychains that Hina or Sakura sent him in their years as online friends.

He entered the cold night air, pocketing his keys and rubbing his hands together. Winter had clung harder than he had ever seen it, or Spring was simply apathetic even in April, biding its time. In the dusky light he could see the timid, barely blooming sakura trees that dotted the expansive main campus of Hope’s Peak Academy as he approached. There was no security on duty, the gates locked at the late hour.

Headmaster Kirigiri had given him a pass once he sent an anxious email talking about how the head of security, Sakakura, had been harassing him whenever he tried to go on campus. Even though reserve course students were barred from entering the main campus, Hifumi had privileges as the liaison between the reserve and main courses, and as a member of the student council.

Hina and Sakura had theorized it was because Sakakura was the Ex-Ultimate Student Council Leader, and was now one of the club’s supporting staff members, even if he had only worked at the school for a few years. The man was resentful of having a reserve course student on the council, a first in the school’s history, even though the reserve course was a relatively recent development.

Hifumi was used to people disliking him for seemingly no reason, it was only a problem that he took to the headmaster when it made him late to council meetings.

He glanced at his phone as he passed through the side gate intended for just security. He would likely be a minute or two late, but it wouldn’t make him stand out any more than usual. In his black and white suit he was a dark stain in the middle of any crowd of bright ultimates, who were able to wear anything pertaining to their talent and flaunt the rules.

Sakura wearing scrubs some days, Hina wearing garish merchandise for a game and smirking as the Ultimate Hall Monitor from class 77B could do nothing about it. They had told Hifumi about some of their classmates testing the rules, Enoshima in a sporty tank top, the Ultimate Team Manager getting away with it even in December. Fukawa, who didn’t even notice the rules apparently, and wore oil stained jumpsuits to class, no one able to deter the Ultimate Engineer and Ultimate Mechanic.

Yet here he was, in an ill-tailored suit. When he had been accepted into the reserve program and sent a uniform, his older sister had insisted he try it on, and cooed over him looking all grown up, as if she weren’t just a year older than him. She utilized some of her cosplay skills to try and modify the suit to fit him- they seemed to be made for exclusively skinny kids, then just sized up without concerns for body shape. Unfortunately Fujiko typically worked with skirts and dresses, which were more forgiving of hands more used to drawing and the bad eyesight all Yamadas seemed to have.

Hifumi had to stop for a moment, the breeze rustling past as he stared up at the few stars that began to twinkle in the night sky, faded and choked by light pollution, blurry even with his glasses. Some were simply blocked by the giant building before him, gleaming glass reflecting the lights of the city’s nightlife, aside from one classroom on the second floor, lit up bright white with silhouettes moving across the room.

He held the binder full of notes to his chest and walked into Hope’s Peak Academy, unaware that someone in the school’s entrance hall was hiding in the shadows, watching with eyes of deep scarlet that reflected light like a cat’s would in the low light.

Hifumi hurried up the stairs and down the hallway to the classroom they held meetings in. He saw Kamii and Kurosaki, two ultimates on the council who were dating, walk into the meeting room, Kamii practically clinging to her boyfriend. It was unsettling to see as he approached, considering Kamii thought PDA was impolite during meetings, and usually sat with someone between her and Kurosaki to avoid it. Maybe she was upset by something, but Hifumi wasn’t about to ask her, considering he was acquaintances at best with the council.

He followed them into the room, the last to arrive. The fluorescent lights were glaring and bright as night settled fully outside of their meeting. Everyone was seated aside from their Ultimate Student Council President, Umesawa, who stood at the podium in front of the blackboard, knuckles white as her blunt nails dug into the wood, her white armband standing out against the bright yellow of her hoodie.

After Hifumi sat down, leaving his notes on the desk, he noticed just how unhappy everyone seemed. Some were fidgeting, others talking but not saying much at all, their tone hurried and frightened, and others sat there and stared at the polished wood of their desk as if the world was ending around them.

“Now that we’re all here- you have some explaining to do Umesawa.” Ikuta, a girl with a famously short temper among the upperclassmen ultimates, had her hands on her desk as she stood slightly, her red hair swaying and catching the eyes of anyone who hadn’t been startled by her shout.

“Yeah, Aiko, your emails were really panicked.” Kashiki smiled softly at her friend, but she seemed to be trembling.

Umesawa tugged on one of the bright yellow ears sitting atop the hood of her sweatshirt, pulling down the hood and raising her head to look up at the council. Her eyes seemed to draw people in, one blue and one green, both full of an earnestness that made her a good Ultimate School Council President. Now, though, they were rimmed with red, and usually perfect wavy bob was a bird’s nest, brown strands out of place in any way they could be.

“I called you all here because it was best to be as discreet as possible.” Umesawa said.

Ichino snorted, not even bothering to hide his disrespect, too busy carding his hand through his already messy red hair. “Discreet. Yeah.”

Just when Hifumi was going to ask them all to explain, because these ultimates always acted as if everyone just knows what’s going on instead of learning things like normal people- the door creaked open and someone Hifumi had never seen before stepped inside.

The first thing Hifumi noticed were the gloves. One a perfect, unstained white, carrying a large duffle bag. The other a black that blended into her sleeve. The rest of her outfit was just as puzzling, a bright red tie and a white button up, but with a black cropped leather jacket over it. A black miniskirt and red knee high boots as well completed the outfit. But even then, it was almost at odds with pale violet eyes and long lavender hair, only a small portion of that hair in a braid that she toyed with in her black gloved hand.

“Good evening class.” She said, her voice even and her eyes narrowed.

Umesawa backed away from the podium, staring at the girl. “Who are y-?”

The girl waved off the question, her black gloved hand slashing through the air, making the council president back away further. “Goodness, and they say you’re one of the brightest in the school?” She takes a step closer, heeled boots heavy on the floor. “Pathetic.” She says, a light scolding, a chiming thing that seemed more like a schoolyard taunt than a threat.

But Hifumi could tell this girl was a threat. Maybe she had a dangerous ultimate talent- he knew for a fact that even if an ultimate skill was illegal they could be admitted and given essentially some form of diplomatic immunity while they attended the school.

“Why the hell are you here lady?!” Ikuta snapped, standing fully with her hands on her hips.

The girl put both her hands in the air, as if surrendering, but she was smiling, amusement sparkling in those eyes that seemed to dig into anything she laid them on, ferreting out as much information as she could. “I just want to play a game with my fellow ultimates.” She said, placating and condescending.

Hifumi, who was tired, confused, and could be watching his friend play video games right now, finally spoke up. “Can any of you ultimates ever explain anything, or is being cryptic part of the main course syllabus?”

The girl turned to him and glared, and Hifumi couldn’t help the small squeak of fear that slipped from his mouth when her face twisted into a sneer. It was a dramatic expression, he had seen it in games and shows, but no one had ever looked at him like that, no matter how many bullies he had faced. Like he was less than nothing, his very existence something to be loathed.

“A. Game. That shouldn’t be so hard for a simple reserve course student to understand, right? After all, you don’t spend your time doing anything worthwhile, if you can’t even manage to get into the main course.” The girl’s voice dripped with malice, and she quickly took over at the podium.

Umesawa backed up even more, now close to the window opposite of the door to the classroom, hands tugging her hood back up so she could pull at the fake rabbit ears in nervousness.

“I will keep it simple.” The girl shot Hifumi another look. “Last man standing wins. Go.”

“That doesn’t make any fucking sense.” Ikuta stepped out into the aisle between desks, pointing a finger at the girl as she demanded answers. “Just who the fuck do you think you are, demanding shit from us? Are you some reserve course kid? We’ve had enough from Yamada-”

Everyone’s eyes had been on Kotomi Ikuta, they hadn’t noticed the threatening girl at the front moving at all, assuming she had been just as stunned by the rant, until Ikuta was cut off by a gunshot.

Hifumi had heard guns before, in games, in animes, in movies. There were different patterns to them depending on the type, and when he and Hina became really invested in a game he would bother to tell them apart, the distinct rapid pulses, the blasts and thunderous booms from all different kinds of weaponry. He had never heard one in real life, had never been in the same room as a real gun, even though he knew there was a shooting range up on the fifth floor for those whose talents needed such things.

It was louder than he expected, and the noise was what made him freeze. In the middle of the classroom, Ikuta fell to her knees, then slumped forward. Shrill screams and rumbling expletives filled the room.

It took a moment, to properly process all of the information and connect the dots. When he did Hifumi couldn’t stop the sharp gasp, even though all it did was make him notice the sharp sulfuric stench of gunpowder, as well as the metallic tang of fresh blood. Things he had never experienced before.

An ultimate had died right before his eyes, by something as simple as the handgun that rested like it was molded to be in the strange threatening girl’s black gloved hand. The girl’s eyes were alight with something Hifumi couldn’t understand as she huffed through her nose in what might have been amusement.

She dropped the duffle bag in her other hand, the thing spilling open to reveal an assortment of weapons from knives to swords, hammers and screwdrivers, guns of all shapes and sizes. They were real, the flash of silvery metal, the dull gleam of tools with a new use branded onto them right before their eyes.

“If that’s not enough for you, I’ve got more.” The girl smirked, and waved to the still open door. A cart came rolling in, it’s top shelf littered with larger weapons. A chainsaw, a mace, a sledgehammer, all on top of it, all perfectly clean as if even they didn’t know what a dark omen they were, as if they didn’t know their capacity to do harm in the right hands.

At the bottom of the cart there was a large case which the girl pulled onto the floor with ease after sliding her handgun into a previously unseen holster high up on her thigh. She kicked the case with her boot, walking around it and towards the door. “That holds all the motivation you’ll need.”

“Everyone stay calm!” Umesawa ordered, straightening up from where she had been cowering. “No one touch those weapons- someone could get hurt!” Her voice was as sweet as ever, even with the urgency, she took out her phone and flipped it open, only for her face to fall.

Yokō stood up from his place at the back of the room, turning his flip phone around as if to show it off. “No connection.”

Kubo stood up, gesturing broadly to the class. “She can’t stop all of us, just listen to Umesawa!”

But everyone seemed to be getting up, fourteen students all in one room, some paralyzed by fear, others covering their fear with anger. Hifumi stayed seated, staring, unable to process it all at once, afraid.

A student who had been at Ikuta’s side the instant she fell, trying to help her even after a gunshot wound to the forehead, lunged forward and grabbed one of the spilled weapons at random. He ran towards the terrifying girl who had orchestrated Ikuta’s death. The boy, Someya, was holding a shotgun that was almost too big for him to handle. The little plushies on keychains at his belt jingled slightly, at odds with the cold metal in his hands. Before he could aim, someone grabbed at him.

Ichino tried to grapple the weapon away from Someya, but the small boy clung to the instrument of death with a desperation no one in the room had seen before now in a human being. Someya was frantic, eyes glassy with tears, his distinctive blue bowlcut in disarray as he shook his head, saying how she needed to pay for killing Ikuta.

In the chaos Hifumi finally stood, moving to the wall the door was on, his back hitting the wall quickly as he tried to look around. Umesawa still was at the podium, pleading for order. Gōryoku was shielding some of the others who had broken down into tears with his large muscular body, and some other students had approached the front of the classroom.

Someya was facing the door, facing the girl who had her gun in one hand but was toying with her braid as well, as if bored. She hummed an uneven tune, as if bored, as if waiting for a show to start.

“Please!” Someya cried, tears falling as the shotgun was wrenched out of his hands, the gun making a sharp cracking sound as it hit the floor.

Then the katana entered his chest from behind, skewering him. As the weapon was pulled out with a wet sucking sound Hifumi wished he could never have heard, the girl holding the weapon sobbed. “My mother- they have my mother- I’m so s-sorry, I can’t-!”

With a sob that devolved into a scream, Kisaragi kicked away the file of photographs she had taken from the case, the motive set out for them. It showed a middle aged woman bound to a chair, screaming into a gag.

“Karen! Please, listen-!” Umesawa implored, a hand outstretched. “Put down the-!” She let out a small scream when Kirasagi lurched forward, slashing the katana.

The sword embedded itself into the podium. Most of the class either hung back or scattered to grab the motives, and then the weapons.

Hifumi could only focus on one thing at a time, the sounds. The wet thunk of metal sinking into flesh, into the soft organs of the human body, so fragile even if the person had been deemed ultimate. Gunshots, sobbing, deranged laughter, screams and death rattles.

Hifumi staggered under the onslaught of sensory information overloading his mind with no way to filter it, no way to stop it. All he could do was try to get away.

Blood splattered onto his blazer, up his neck and onto his face as another student died. With a short, faltering yell, he pushed someone out of the way of the door and began to run.

The moonlight streaming into the hallways washed them in a pale ghostly glow, as if illuminating perfection, as if a spotlight was needed. Hifumi didn’t know it, but he looked similar to when he spoke to his friends in late night chats, his lights off in his room and illuminated only by the pale glow of a computer screen, tired and giggling.

Pink marred the walls and floors. In the classroom Hifumi abandoned, a boy he had spoken to, someone in a committee with him, was brutally beaten to death with a chair. A girl he knew was stabbed. Another was strangled. The events tumbled together into one big massacre, one big game, one big show, and the girl who pulled the strings to watch this all happen couldn’t help the grin on her usually passive face as she left the scene into her own lair.

Someone stood at her side now, shorter than her, but even more intimidating. A person in a pristine suit and long black hair, almost ridiculous in its length. Their red eyes seemed to gleam as they watched, but their pointed features never twitched from an expressionless mask of disinterest.

“Satisfied, Izuru?” Kirigiri asked once she reached her control room, one of her lackeys nodding to her reverentially and giving her the seat. Another approached her other side, giggling.

“...” Izuru’s eyes slid to the side, towards where the lackey who had been in the chair now cowered, too horrified to watch what he assisted in causing, pathetic. The girl laughing into her hand was small, and with Izuru’s keen sight and ultimate knowledge, Izuru knew that the girl was thirteen at best, too young, yet still an ultimate. She was enthralled by the gore on screen, delighted by it, just as much as she was enthralled by Kirigiri, who put a hand on the young girl’s shoulder, speaking words but never telling her anything.

With a small huff through their nose, Izuru turned and left to see the scene for himself.

Hifumi didn’t know when someone had got him with a blade. They evidently had, from the wound on his arm pouring blood, pink staining his nice uniform, running through his fingers even when he tried his best to stop the bleeding.

He continued to stumble on, mind overloaded with information, with fear, and he couldn’t help but just blank out on all of it. There was too much to process, too much to bear acknowledging. With a ragged huff, he leaned against a wall of lockers, the cool metal a relief from everything, another nothingness to sink into.

The wall of windows allowed in so much moonlight, for a moment Hifumi thought it was day, that any moment so many of the best students in the country would come pouring out of their classrooms. Maybe his friends would be among them, Hina tapping on her phone or the newest handheld console, Sakura making sure they didn’t bump into anyone.

They would see him, and Sakura would hold him. She was so strong, so steady. She could carry Hifumi to the infirmary, could bandage him up and offer him a lollipop with that slight smile she got when she talked to him or Hina. She would fret over him any time she saw him until the bandage was finally gone, she would insist on carrying his bag or his notes for student council-

Hifumi swallowed down a sob, pushing himself onward. Screams echoed down hallways made to carry the voices of the best, the last cries of those who were dead the moment that girl walked into their meeting. It hurt, to keep moving, to keep acting as if just running away would save him, but everything would hurt no matter what choice he made.

All he wanted was to hang out in Hina’s dorm, his best friends at his side as they all rested on Hina’s bright pink bed, Sakura studying late into the night as he and Hina fell asleep against her.

He wanted so much, and he was never going to get it, not now. Hifumi knew he was going to die here, he just knew it. Was this something other people felt, like a blanket of fresh snow, cold and melting deep into his bones as he realized death was coming for him, an unstoppable force? Was this something that had always been there waiting for him, and he only noticed it now when his head swam and pink dripped from his fingers?

In every game, every anime, every manga, the hero managed to get up and keep going. Whether to escape only to save the day later, or to defeat whatever stood in their way. No one expected that of Hifumi. Maybe they would think an ultimate was capable of it, and there were thirteen ultimates he had left behind to tear each other apart.

He heard a high pitched, screaming cackle and the revving of a chainsaw, the cut off screams of a victim, far enough away that he wasn’t in danger.

Hifumi wouldn’t find any heroes here. All he could do was try his best.

The ones who cared for him, his friends, that’s all they had ever asked of him. To try his best, to keep going, to rely on them if he needed to. Hifumi needed them more than ever, Hina’s endless energy and excitement, Sakura’s quiet strength and support. Hina would be in her dorm, headphones on as she kept talking and talking, playing video games for thousands to see. Sakura was studying a new medical journal, sitting on Hina’s bed, out of view of the webcam.

They were so close but so far, and they were all he could think of. Would they send worried texts when he never messaged them goodnight? Would they wait until tomorrow morning, thinking he had been tired from the meeting? Would they use the extra key to his dorm he gave them, and find his room as he left it, as if nothing was amiss? Would he become another muttered rumor, like the supposed death of a girl in the computer lab of the reserve course?

Would anyone aside from Hina and Sakura notice him gone from campus? He was invisible to the other reserve course students. Maybe they would wonder why there was an extra desk in their classroom, and dismiss it just as quickly as a mistake, never remembering him.

Tears welled up in his eyes. It was all too much, the noises, the things he had seen. Hifumi had never seen someone die before. He had never seen someone kill before. He had never seen carnage, or gore, or death. He wanted nothing more than to calm his racing thoughts, but they all piled up and screamed until he reached nothing, slumped against some lockers. His left hand was in his mouth, and he bit down harshly on the joint of his thumb, his right hand clutching where he had been injured.

He screamed silently, throat hurting, tears finally spilling. He was so tired and scared and lost and he just wanted- he didn’t know what he wanted, he didn’t know what to do, it all was piling up, it was washing over him, a tsunami of panic and blood, bright pink and towering over him, until it finally fell and consumed him without even noticing.

Hifumi continued to dig his teeth into his hand, it was something solid, letting him know that he was here. He brought his knees up to his chest, his legs squishing into his stomach. He let go of his wound, his right hand coming up to pull at his short curly hair as he keened. The wet sticky feeling of blood on his hand, in his hair, was so bad but the grounding pull of pain in his scalp was something that kept him from trying to slam his head into the wall or something equally damaging, because he needed anything to stop his mind from screaming, to stop himself from screaming. He began to rock back and forth, crying.

He didn’t know how much time had passed. The moon watched on, impassive in its pale glow. Was time really passing, or had the world ended the moment that girl shot Ikuta? Was the planet still spinning? Would the moon ever set?

“Get up Yamada.”

Chills swept down Hifumi’s spine, he swore someone was talking, but all he could hear were distant gunshots and screams.

“Yamada! Get up!” A polished shoe kicked him in the shin, and Hifumi finally looked up.

Murasame stood before him, leaning on a pitchfork. The dark grey tines were splattered with blood already, dripping down onto the floor. Hifumi stared at the blood, mind numb, lungs and throat pained by the sobs that had wracked his body.

“I can’t kill a guy who’s crying like a baby. Are you a man or not, Yamada? I know you’re just a stupid reserve course, but c’mon. Get up, die with a little bit of dignity.” Murasame rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. He bent down to look at Hifumi like he was nothing more than a bug on the ground, disgusting. His brown hair shifted to cover his face as he leaned, before snorting wryly and standing up straight again, rolling his eyes.

Hifumi choked on another sob, trying to just breathe. He used both of his hands to brace against the lockers behind him, trying to stand. He didn’t know why he bothered, but it was something to do. Maybe Murasame was joking? Maybe he would help Hifumi?

The moment Hifumi was steady on his feet Murasame backed up, swinging his pitchfork up, an arc of pink that glowed in the moonlight following it.

Hifumi ran again. He turned a corner down the hall, still between a wall of lockers and windows, still in a cold empty husk of a school, and he didn’t stop.

He bumped into something- someone, and stumbled back, looking at them. A short person with long black hair and pointed features, deep red eyes that stared at him with nothing behind them. “Sorry!” He shrieked, the habit converging against his fear as he quickly stepped around the person and kept running.

Izuru raised an eyebrow and deftly hid between the lockers as another ultimate passed, this one full of bloodlust, hunting the boy who ran into them. It was different, interesting, but Izuru kept moving. They had more to see than this.

Every breath seared from Hifumi’s lungs, his body ached as he did his best to keep moving. But he didn’t even make it all the way down the hallway. Hacking into his bloodied hands, he ended up falling against one of the massive windows that made up the outside wall of the school. His injured arm burned with pain against the cold glass.

Hifumi whimpered, turning to keep his back to the glass as he heard sprinting footsteps slow and reach him.

“Everyone hated you, Yamada.” Murasame huffed, both hands holding the pitchfork as if it was a staff.

“What?” Hifumi wheezed out, more confused than frightened.

“You waltz in, a useless reserve course, and start telling us what to do. We had a betting pool going on whether you were just that oblivious that you didn’t notice how annoying you were, or if you really were just that annoying.” Murasame sneered.

“Wh-What?!”

Murasame let go of his pitchfork with one of his hands to point at Hifumi accusingly, the tines of the weapon scraping against the floor loudly, making Hifumi flinch away.

“That. Is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re so annoying and don’t even fucking know, do you? Handing out orders, trying to get us to help a bunch of teenagers who convinced their parents to blow their money just to attend Hope’s Peak- it’s a wonder no one offed you before now.” Murasame swung the pitchfork back up, both hands on the weapon as he pointed it at Hifumi.

“No- please-!” Hifumi begged, trying to dive out of the way.

The sound of cracking glass echoed around the hall as Murasame chuckled. “Really?”

Hifumi wanted to back away, wanted to run again, but fear paralyzed him.

Murasame just shook his head, pulling back his pitchfork and causing the window to fully shatter. “Get up Yamada. I’m not killing you while you cower. Unlike you, I’m better than that.”

Hifumi made another noise, a whimpered plea even he couldn’t understand, and stood up. He trembled and breathed in the cold night air that rushed through the broken window.

Murasame wacked Hifumi in the head with the side of the pitchfork, toying with him.

Hifumi stumbled to the side, now fully in front of the empty window frame, shards of glass still clinging to the sides. Part of him wondered if he should say something cool. Last words were supposed to be cool, right? That was for heroes, and he had always wanted to be one. He had always wanted too much.

Murasame bared his teeth and stabbed forward, the tines of his pitchfork sinking into Hifumi’s abdomen. For a moment all Hifumi could feel was the force of it, like a gut punch, something he hadn’t been a stranger to back in his middle school days. But sharp pain quickly followed, spreading, and he staggered back, the heel of his shoe hitting open air. He grabbed at the long handle of the pitchfork reflexively, unable to do anything about it.

Murasame lunged forward, trying to grab the handle of his weapon, but he missed. The revving of a chainsaw grew steadily closer, as well the unhinged laughter of an ultimate pushed to the edge. Hifumi’s killer didn’t bother watching him fall, instead running in search of a new weapon.

Hifumi gasped raggedly as he tipped out of the window, the world swinging away until all he saw was the sky. The black of night was endless, the faded stars twinkled, the moon still shined. They wouldn’t change with one boy’s death. They wouldn’t care.

As he fell, all he regretted was not giving Hina and Sakura a better goodbye. He felt the slight scrape of leaves and then his body slammed into the ground, rendering him unconscious.

He wouldn’t wake for days. When the school’s security would find him during their sweep of the grounds, it would be an hour after they already found the unresponsive, unconscious body of Aiko Umesawa, her yellow rabbit hoodie stained pink. She would be taken to a nearby hospital, and she would be silenced before she had a chance to wake.

Hifumi was found later, a pitchfork still stuck in his stomach, and that was for the best, as it staved off the worst of the bleeding as it stayed in the wound. He had sustained a head injury and a cut to his arm, but it was better than the twelve dead students littering the second floor of Hope’s Peak Academy. A dozen bright, beautiful students all dead, their lives destroyed before they could truly live.

The school board of Hope’s Peak knew another factor to the puzzling killing game. Their pet project, Izuru Kamakura, was missing. The Ultimate Hope, the Ultimate Ultimate, was gone and most of the staff who attended to the project were dead or had been enjoying a day off in the peace of their own home, unknowing that their colleagues were being slaughtered like animals.

It had to have been Izuru Kamakura that unleashed this bloodshed. The project ensured that the Ultimate Hope had every talent and skill ever recorded, the school board knew how easily their little project could kill, could hide bodies. They assumed it was a vengeful sign to the board, thinking themselves worth the carnage. The school board thought too highly of themselves. They underestimated just how easy it was to bring an ultimate to�� a breaking point.

An entire life that culminated in a title, and ultimate, until that was all they were known for. They had to constantly one-up themselves, to constantly prove to others, and to themself, that they were the best. Years of effort, years of blood, sweat, and tears. Everything relied on their ultimate. Their world revolved around it, until they became the embodiment of their ultimate, until their ultimate became them.

When tasked with murder, with letting go of any inhibition and just committing violence, just causing harm, something any human being was capable of, they took to the task with an almost inhuman speed. Some would need a push, but even then, their calculating mind would whir and they would frame everything to their advantage. They would come out on top, they had to. They were an ultimate after all.

But the school board only saw the brightest of their students, children. The blame was placed on Izuru Kamakura, and they quickly moved to cover up any signs of the incident.

Hifumi Yamada would have been placed in the same hospital as his student council president, and would have been silenced just the same, two birds with one stone, but that didn’t happen. The Ultimate Nurse Sakura Oogami demanded the school fly her best friend to her clan’s clinic. She would take care of any medical need, or else she and her girlfriend, the Ultimate Gamer, would drop out of Hope’s Peak permanently, and Asahina would use her global fame to ensure that the reputation of their former school was dragged through the mud.

The school board didn’t care much if the reserve course student died, but it was best if the kid died out of their responsibility, so they used the school’s helicopter to fly Hifumi, Sakura, and Hina all to the Oogami clan’s isolated compound.

Days passed where Sakura tended to her best friend’s wounds, and he awoke. His shifting had roused Hina, who had been sleeping at his bedside, and she ran to get Sakura.

Hifumi couldn’t help but cry in Sakura’s arms, crying himself to sleep within minutes of waking, but this sleep was far more restful. He knew he was safe. He knew he would be cared for. He knew he’d never have to go through something so bad like that ever again.

Two weeks would pass from this incident, and Hifumi would find himself locked in Hope’s Peak Academy, working with the 78th class to bolt over any window and make sure they could never, ever escape. He would agree to lock himself into the building where the worst thing to ever happen to him occurred. He agreed because Hina and Sakura would be at his side. He agreed because he knew they would be safe, together.

Hifumi’s memories of the School Council Killing Game were unclear. He would wake from nightmares gasping for air, never fully remembering the faces of his fellow students who died, only remembering the indifferent moonlight and the gleam of deranged eyes.

When Hifumi would ask Kyoko Kirigiri if they had ever met before, the Ultimate Lucky Student would smile awkwardly, shrugging her shoulders and saying that he must be thinking of someone else, and he would believe her, unknowing of the deep, undying loathing she carried in her heart towards him. Unknowing that she had sworn to kill him with her own hands one day.

#my talentswap #writing #Hifumi Yamada #Aoi Asahina #Sakura Oogami #Kyoko Kirigiri #danganronpa talentswap

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lovelivingmydreams · 3 years

Text

A story by heroes and villains

Roman Castile: Passion and duty

Roman finds that his different passions seem to get in each other's way for now. But one day, he will find a balance.

“Ugh! I am done!” Roman exclaimed relieved, barely hearing the hissed warning from the librarian. Homework had been draining. Sure they’d had fun. Especially when it came to teasing Virgil about his pronunciation when they worked on Spanish.

Still Roman was ready to do literally anything else.

“Give me a sec, I have to finish this thing for English,” Virgil muttered absentmindedly. Roman knew that Virgil had rewritten that particular assignment two times already.

“Want me to read it trough for you?” Roman offered. Maybe hearing someone say that it was good would be enough to stop him from second guessing himself again.

“You don’t…” Virgil started, somehow looking guilty.

“We’re here to help each other Virgil. If I didn’t want to help you I wouldn’t offer. I thrive on being of help to my friends. It’s no trouble,” he assured him. Virgil offered him a small smile and a nod in response. “Alright. You can read it when I’m done,” he allowed.

Roman took peace with that and opened his notebook to start doodling.

He had a few ideas for some more shirt designs. He’d enjoyed making his ‘coming out’ shirt. Then there was the Halloween party and every other social event this year has to offer where he had to slay. Junior year was a year to be noticed. Nothing wrong with putting down some ideas in advance. He just might come across the perfect outfit.

“Seems I’m not the only one who can draw up some clothes,” Virgil noted and Roman nearly fell of his chair when he jumped at his sudden proximity.

“Will you stop that!?” A thing about Virgil Roman had learned over the last week. He always seemed to pop up out of nowhere. One minute he’s gushing over the latest Disney trailer with André and suddenly Virgil stands next to him giving his two cents. It was terrifying.

“Not a chance,” Virgil chuckled as he picked up Roman’s sketches.

“This looks good though… You ever thought of becoming a fashion designer?”

Roman’s eyes widened. Making amazing outfits for a living? He could make a whole ‘wear your pride’ line and… Oh… Oh…!

“You are a genius!” Roman exclaimed. He’d had no idea what he wanted to do with his future, aside from hero work, but now the idea was brought up he wanted nothing else. Fashion designer, superhero, actor, maybe also Mr. Castile-Anker. That was a future he could look forward to!

Virgil chuckled. “It’s the least I can do. I sent in the designs like you said… I’m kind of excited.”

Roman beamed at him. “I’m sure next time you see DreamPrince on the news he’ll be wearing your design.” He was. He’d been shown some alternative designs by Manifestor and found Virgil’s drawing among them and immediately declared that that was the one.

As he’d told Roman, he’d changed a few things. He’d shown him on Wednesday to get his stamp of approval. Roman had gushed unapologetically, because he knew he’d have to tone it back a bit in front of the team.

Which had been hard.

Tonight he’d be taking it for a test run and he’d make sure to be seen by people and cameras.

“We’ll see,” Virgil smiled as he pushed his laptop with his assignment towards Roman.

Roman read it, dropping the subject without problem.

Virgil was easy to be friends with and he’d quickly learned to read his moods.

During lunch Virgil usually sat himself a little bit away from the group when he felt the need to just focus on his music and sketch a little before heading back to class. He was sarcastic, witty and could dish it out about as well as he could take it.

He was also very guarded emotionally, which Roman could understand, but whenever they were just the two of them, Virgil opened up some more. He’d learned about Virgil’s soon to be stepdad and the admittedly adorable meet cute he’d been a part of.

He knew that Virgil’s dad had found them a new home and they’d moved in just that week.

He learned that Virgil was mature and his dad’s only wingman which they both agreed was super awkward but also hilarious.

Roman had joked that Virgil might end up being his father’s best man. But apparently there was a family friend ‘uncle Thomas’ who might get that position.

Virgil had gone out with another girl that week. Anna, who’d had English with him last year or something. Virgil had listened patiently, but relatively unaffected to her asking him out and arranged another semi-date at the music store for the next evening. Luckily nothing came from it again. Roman asked him why he kept saying yes to people he barely knew. Virgil explained that he had missed out on enough chances to befriend others. So the way he saw it he’d at the very least get a friend out of it. Roman kind of took comfort in that. It didn’t sound like Virgil was trying to get a girlfriend or a boyfriend right now. Just trying to socialize. Roman had reminded Virgil to watch his boundaries though. He wouldn’t want him to push himself out of fear he’d be missing out.

One more thing he learned about Virgil: he was overly critical of himself.

“Well, I think you can hand this in with confidence Virge,” Roman concluded as he returned Virgil’s laptop to him.

“So… I recall something about pizza? I’m starving!” he grinned.

Virgil chuckled and lead the way. Soon they were sat at a table with their orders and they were talking about everything and nothing. It was great. And Roman was so close to asking Virgil out but…

“So… Um… There’s this… Shoot wait a minute,” Roman got up and picked up his phone.

“Si mama…?” he asked curiously after seeing the caller ID.

“Darling. I know you are out with your friend. But I wanted you to know we’re headed to the university now,” his mother informed him. The university… Wait. “Que?” Roman looked at his watch incredulously. He was going to be late. Unless he left right now that is.

“Perdona! I’ll be there soon.” He hung up and dug through his wallet for some money.

“So sorry Virge! Time got away from us I’m afraid. I swear I intended to give you that ride… Can you call your dad… You know what? Just use the change to take the bus or something alright? My treat! I’ll call you later!” he promised as he tossed down a few bills that should more than cover the tab and the tip before rushing away.

How was it so late already?

He sprinted around a few corners and found a spot to get changed. BS had explained about the sciency stuff behind his costume change, but all Roman really cared about was that he basically had a magical boy transformation. Sure he could sit there and let the tech do its thing, but it was much more fun to make up a cool transformation sequence.

First, hair. He retrieved a lip balm like object and applied the substance to his hairline. He tucked the balm away and with one smooth movement of his hand he styled and recolored his hair. Instead of parted in the middle with regal waves it was flicked to the back, save for a single rebellious strand dangling down his forehead. Instead of a deep ash brown it was warm chestnut in color.

Then he took a tini metallic bead from a ring on his finger and tapped it against his temple, before he swiped his hand in front of his eyes as his mask placed itself securely on his face, changing his eye color in the process. He tapped his wrists together in front of his chest and brought them down with force, feeling his blazer and shirt get replaced by the skintight suit. He tapped his right heal against his left before taking another power position and finishing his costume change.

How cool was his life?!

He created a platform to lift himself to the roof and sprinted towards the university. The GTH was in it’s basement. As he made his way there he started to think over asking Virgil out again.

Maybe, now wasn’t the time. Virgil was clearly still upset about the whole Janus thing. He didn’t say it but Roman could tell. And he didn’t want Virgil to think for even a second that Roman’s crush was anything less than genuine, he had noticed that Virgil still had trouble believing their friendship was real at times. Not to mention that starting a relationship with someone while he was still figuring out how to balance out superhero and civilian life was clearly a bad idea. He couldn’t even ask him out without being interrupted by his other life.

So, he'd wait until he had his life in order and he was sure Virgil was ready. There was definitely some kind of connection between them. And Roman was willing to wait until the time was right…

He knew he was being a coward, but his friendship with Virgil was so fragile.

He entered the basement campus with little hassle and dropped of his bag in his personal locker, making sure to lock it. If anyone with ill intent got in here they could easily find out his identity with it's contents and Roman didn’t want his name out like that. Not yet at least.

He hurried to the training hall, threw open the doors and slid inside.

“Your prince has returned!” he exclaimed, doing a pretty good job at pretending he hadn't just sprinted the whole way there.

“Has he now?” BS asked, apparently in a bad mood today.

“Oh come now big S, the boy is just excited for his present! I would be too if I got a new costume made for me by a secret admirer,” Sweets offered with a calming hand on BS' shoulder. Sweets was an empath. He could share his emotions and those of others, perfect match for someone who wants or needs to keep his calm.

But what sweets said made Roman rather flustered. “I don't think DreamPrince has had enough appearances to already gain such attentions. Whoever did this just couldn't stand to look at this any longer.” Roman gestured to his current costume.

“Speaking of which…” he held out his hand bouncing on his feet in excitement. He was supposed to meet the chief of police today and he wanted to look presentable.

Manifestor chuckled from his spot on the desk. “Give the boy his stuff. He's been looking forward to this day for the past four years.”

BS sighed and handed Roman a small box, which the young hero snatched up before rushing to the dressing room.

He turned his suit off and took off the containment units. He opened the box and switched the old units for the new ones. The bracelets were more comfortable and adjusted to his skin tone, the metal bead was replaced with two skin colored stickers he applied to his temples.

“Let’s do this,” Roman smirked excitedly.

“To adventure!” he called out as he crossed his arms and tapped at his temples while simultaneously clicking his wrists together. At the same time he tapped his right toe behind his left heel and brought his ankles together. He struck a power pose, facing the full length mirror and grinned excitedly. Virgil had added an insignia on his cape and golden trimming in the final design. There'd been a few options for his emblem and Roman had chosen the shield with a castle by the sea with the sun shining down on him. He looked quite dashing.

He left the dressing room and handed the box back to BS with an elegant gesture.

BS wasn't amused. Sweets and Manifestor on the other found it hilarious.

“So? What do you think?” Roman asked as he turned around to show off the end result.

A loud ‘bing' announced a message from his family watching from the observation room.

“Gaaaaaaay!” Roman rolled his eyes good naturedly. Remus was a fan.

“Stay away from Planes!” the next one read. Roman chuckled. He had asked Virgil about the cape, considering he’d expected someone as cautious as him to heed Edna Mode's advice.

Apparently Virgil had intended the Cape to be an addition for official events. So ‘Prince’ would look good on camera. He'd also pointed out that it would look badass for the prince to un-claps his Cape before a fight. He'd had a point and Roman actually loved it.

“You look very handsome darling.”

“Thanks mom!” Roman called out.

Then two beeps came from a device on BS wrist. He looked down and relaxed, tapping away at a holographic screen, turning up the intensity of his shadow. “The chief is here,” he announced.

Roman raised an eyebrow, that was not what BS had been so tense about. Something in his private life maybe? If that was the case he'd never find out.

Roman had no time to worry about that though. The door opened and in walked the police chief. A small but commanding African American woman. It was something in the way she walked that made Roman want to stand at attention. And so he did. He wasn't the only one.

“DreamPrince, at your service ma’am,” Roman introduced himself respectfully.

“So you are what all the fuss is about?” she asked as she looked Roman up and down.

Chief Davies pursed her lips before nodding to herself. “I’ve read your file, you’re quite the prodigy aren’t you?” she asked.

Roman chuckled a little awkwardly. “I’ve just been training from a young age, that’s all.” Most gifted didn’t realize their talent until they were well in their teens.

“Good answer. I have no time to stroke an adolescent ego. We’ve got work to do.”

Chief Davies turned to Manifestor. “You got the files I sent?”

Manifestor nodded hurriedly. “Yes. I had no time to review them though.”

“I’ll walk you through it,” she announced dismissively. The leader of Roman’s training team nodded and tapped at something on his wrist. The screen that had shown the messages from Roman’s family earlier was now filled with mugshots.

The men looked dangerous. Roman shifted nervously. “You… you want my help apprehending these men?” he asked, trying not to show how frightening it seemed.

“God No!” Roman hid his relieve. “These men are all in jail already, with iron clad cases keeping them there for a long time. You think I’m going to send some rookie after hardcore criminals? No offense, but you are still a baby,” Roman blushed at that and focused back on the pictures.

Wait a minute. “I know that guy! Remember at the end of my first week? I spotted some tugs bothering that kid and tossed a rock at them?”

“And by some miracle you weren’t found when said tugs came looking for you,” BS added through gritted teeth. Still upset at Roman's initial recklessness.

“I wasn’t the only one they were looking for,” Roman insisted. He’d been so sure he hadn’t been alone that night. But BS claimed the would have known if anyone else had been there.

He never went after the tugs after they left the alley. BS insisting he was done with back alleys for the night.

And now those guys were apparently behind bars?

“Next slide please!” Davies called out.

A picture of a ziplock bag with pictures, a USB stick and a note of cut out letters that said ‘your turn’.

“For almost a year now we’ve been getting mysterious packages like this. Pictures, audio and video recordings. Every last one had one of these men incriminating themselves. It’s like whoever delivers these stands right next to them, but never gets caught taking pictures or carrying a wire. I have a small task force on the case who have dubbed them ‘The Phantom’. We are keeping this as in house as we can. Once the public hears about the Phantom, we’ll lose the most valuable asset we’ve ever had. Plus until now we weren’t sure if they were a sensible vigilante or a mobster who was taking out competition in a very clever way. Given what you just said I’d be inclined towards the former. They might have some sort of gift that hides them well enough to get away with spying. But right now, they are putting themselves in danger.” Davies turned towards Roman.

“Keep an eye out, see if you can spot him during your patrol this evening. And if you do, get him on board with the program.”

“Prince did not go through all that training to be your recruitment poster boy!” BS snapped to Roman's surprise. That was the most emotional response he's seen from BS ever. Aside from when he scolded Roman on his reckless behavior.

Davies glared at BS, looking quite intimidating, despite barely reaching to his chest.

“Now don't go all noble on me BrainStorm. What? Did your heart grow three sizes while I wasn't looking? Is there suddenly room for more than one other person there?”

Roman knew that this was a threat. Davies knew BS’ true identity, where he worked, who he cared for. She could ruin whatever he had built in an instant.

Roman often wondered what kind of life BS had outside the facility. Did he have a partner? A family? Did they know about his past at all.

A few seconds ticked by with no one daring to do so much as breathe.

Then Davies relaxed and stepped back. “I'm no monster BrainStorm. I wouldn't ask some rookie to deal with this if I hadn’t tried everything else already. I send in my agents and even called in other gifted. All we got out of that was this,” she gestured and Manifestor showed the next image. A note in the same style as the previous one that said ‘no babysit!’

“Our profiler thinks they are young. So maybe your prince won't seem as threatening. They might've had his back once before already. If this Phantom were someone you cared for, would you rather we left them be, or would you drag their noble behind here yourself to give them proper gear and back up?”

The question hung in the air for a moment, BS had nothing to counter with. Roman imagined Phantom being one of his friends, or even Janus and the answer remained the same.

“I will do what I can,” he vowed before lifting his chin and facing the fierce chief head on. “But ma'am, I don't appreciate you threatening my mentor like that.”

BS had stood up for him, it was only right for him to return the favor.

Davies chuckled. “Just when I started to worry you were only brawn and a pretty face. You can be smart too huh? And you’ve got guts. You just might have what it takes kid. Now. I have places to be. Keep me updated, and don't lose this.” Roman accepted the watch he was handed with a confused frown.

“My people will call if we need you. Please use that brain and return the favor?”

With that she left. Well… that was intense.

Roman put on the watch and saw that it had a frequency displayed on it instead of time. He also spotted two buttons. One blue and one red. It didn't take much to realize that one was a panic button and the other was to make it so the cops could hear him. He wondered if it would connect to the nearest patrol car or to Davies directly.

He hoped he’d never have to find out.

“Well… time to show the city their hero is ready for action.”

It had been a pleasant evening so far. He'd stopped a few shoplifters, broke up a fight or two and dodged a few reporters, though he let them snap a good picture of his new outfit.

Now the sun was down however and he was making his way to the back alleys.

“Looking for a fight is foolish Prince!” BS growled through his earpiece.

But Roman wasn't looking for a fight. He was looking for someone who'd gotten him out of at least one pickle.

He ignored BS as he landed on a roof, overlooking the city using his sight. He didn’t know what he was looking for exactly, but it was his only plan.

Suddenly he spotted something strange and unusual. There was an energy, a few blocks ahead. But it was impossible for him to really see it. Like he was looking at it trough glasses with strong prescriptions.

He rushed towards it and found a gang of criminals with violently swirling auras. He knew what this meant. They were going to hurt someone.

“Send back up to my location,” he instructed before turning the receiver off. He needed to focus.

“I say we attack now! They are week! We can take them down easily.” A shorter guy with energy like glass shards insisted.

“Boss says we have a truce until the rat is found,” a giant of a man stated calmly, though his energy betrayed how much he wanted to go with the first guy's plan.

Were they talking about Phantom?

“What rat!? Those idiots just bragged to the wrong crowd.” The first voice shot back. Phantom was becoming a bit of a ghost story it seemed. Some who believed, judging by the shudder that went through the other men's auras at the mere mention of them. But clearly not everyone was convinced.

“Oh and they gave out pictures as well? Did a little livestream? We're not safe until this rat is lynched,” the tall man pointed out tensely. He was a believer. And he wanted Phantom dead. Not good.

Roman studied the tugs and to his relief he spotted they were all armed. Weird thing to be happy about. But it meant he had probable cause to interfere.

He jumped down, slowing his descent just so that he didn't hurt himself on the landing without sacrificing the cool factor.

“Do you gentlemen have permits for those weapons?” he asked as he rose up to his full length facing them fearlessly.

“what the…?”

“It's that Prince clown!” Rude.

The tall guy, the leader probably, silenced the group with a gesture and smiled, his anxious energy almost completely disappearing. He'd found something to vent on. “Sure kid. Got mine right here.”

Roman flung his cape in front of him and manifested a gelatinous shield around himself as the leader pulled out his gun and fired several rounds at him. The tugs wouldn't see it. But it was there, and it caught the bullets slowing them down until they were harmless, making them fall to the ground when they met with the fabric.

“Well now you just pissed me off. This is brand new!” he complained as he dropped both cape and shield.

“I suppose you won't surrender peacefully?” he deduced. The criminals all readied their weapons. Seriously? Did they not get that he was essentially bulletproof?

He sighed as he took off his cape and hung it on a water pipe that ran down the side of the building.

“Fine,” he sighed and then he amped up his speed a bit while shielding himself from the rain of bullets heading his way. He used the gelatin shield because he didn't want to risk the bullets ricocheting and injuring someone. Especially the gifted he was sure was still watching the whole thing.

It wasn't hard to disarm the criminals. He even managed to knock a few to the ground. But there were at least two who'd gone down without him even touching them. And he would’ve sworn he saw a figure move between him and a tug once or twice to block a blow. He couldn't really see the other hero. It was an odd sensation. But he could feel his presence better and better and soon he was adapting his moves to those of the Phantom. Together they took out the whole group. Though to the villains it would seem like he'd done it by himself. He stood victorious over the leader, a pile of disassembled guns behind him and sirens lighting up the alley.

He twisted his foot to show off his white boot with gold accents. “So… how does it feel to get your butt kicked by a guy in heels?” he wondered playfully before looking up towards the presence and winking in acknowledgment.

“Good job Dream Prince. We've got it from here.” Roman turned to the cops and bowed to them

“It's my pleasure to be of assistance to the police of this fine city.” Then, while turning around, he made a gesture that could be taken as a ‘goodbye’, or as a ‘follow me’.

He was glad to notice that the presence seemed to follow him. He found a fire escape and floated himself to the roof it led to.

He turned to face his hopefully soon to be partner in crime fighting.

He could hear the clanging of someone climbing the metal fire escape. And while he still couldn't quite make out the figure that reached the roof he saw his reflection in a pool of water left behind by the rain earlier that day.

An unfortunate weakness, but so long as no one knew, no one would be looking for it. In order to be a hero, no one could know Phantom really existed. Was that why the authorities were kept at a distance? Why Phantom never made introductions despite having crossed paths at least once before?

He stepped forward with a bow. “Greetings Phantom. I must thank you for the assistance. Both just now and three months ago. I am Dream Prince, he/him if you please. A pleasure to officially meet you.”

A distorted chuckle made him look up. He could see Phantom much better now. He was dressed in Male coded clothes, though that was no guarantee. The hero outfit was simple. A black t-shirt, boots and denims, paired with a black coat that reached down to his calves and had the collar popped up. He looked really cool… but Roman couldn't make sense of his head. He was looking right at him he could see it, but his brain couldn't identify a thing.

It was so weird.

“Phantom huh?” His voice was a strange deep echoing sound. The distortion was pretty spooky if he was honest, but he wasn't afraid. Phantom was on his side.

“Sure you can call me that. He/him… mind telling me what that was about? I thought you officials weren't let of your leash unless you could be responsible enough to not get yourself killed?”

Roman cocked his brow. “Says the guy who has half the criminal underworld out for his blood,” he reminded him. Phantom looked away. Clearly he knew Roman had a point.

“Do you have something against the program?” His tone had been oddly bitter.

“No I…” Phantom took in a deep breath. “Sorry, I’m just pissed at the cops for sending you, I guess.” He sure sounded upset. And Roman could understand that. Here Phantom was, doing his part and all the cops could do in return was bother him At least as far as the young vigilante could tell. But then why…?

“Yet you chose to follow me up here?” Roman pressed. That didn’t make any sense. Phantom had shaken off his ‘babysits’ before. What made Roman special?

“Um… Well… I just…” Phantom stammered. Roman wondered why. Was he bad with confrontation? Social interaction in general? Or had Roman said something that hit a nerve somehow?

“You interrupted my stake out!” Phantom blurted out all of a sudden.

“Do you know how long it takes to work my way up the ranks? First I have to find a low level runner, then I follow him to his boss, that guy to his and so up the ladder I go. I was getting real close to the big guy of this group. And now…” Oh… Well Roman could understand how that would be frustrating.

“I apologize,” he said sincerely with a small bow. “I merely intended to help. They were talking about killing you.” Surely he could understand that he could not stand by after hearing that.

“And now there is a price on your head! The leader of that little club is like two steps away from the big boss. They won’t be happy with you taking him in.”

Well… He had a point. But Roman had back up. It would be rather stupid of the mob to come after a hero with government sanctioning. And these guys would go behind bars for a long time right? “You got dirt on them?” he asked. If the guns weren’t enough then surely whatever Phantom had gleaned from his stakeouts would be sufficient. Right?

“Yes… But that’s not the point. They have no clue about me. Not really. But you are out in the open. This is not your kind of mission Royal pain.” Oh, he had nicknames huh? It was an insult, but Roman didn’t mind witty banter. Especially if it came from a place of care. And Roman was starting to think it did.

“And now that you are out, you can’t expect me to hold your hand any longer…”

Roman crossed his arms and smirked catching the implications of what Phantom just said.

“You’ve been looking out for me all summer huh?” he guessed.

Phantom scoffed and probably rolled his eyes. While Roman still couldn’t quite see it, he would bet his entire Disney collection on it.

“It’s not like I came looking for you.” Phantom snapped. And Roman believed him.

“Still… Thank you…” he was going to say more but then he heard a beep in his ear followed by a loud voice. “Prince! Answer this instant!”

“Ow!” Roman exclaimed annoyed, reflexively reaching for his ear though it wouldn’t help much. He pressed the button to talk to BS. “One. Loud. Two. Rude! I am in the middle of something! And did you seriously remotely reactivate my com?”

He would demand a new com that couldn’t do that or he’d refuse to wear one period. What if he needed to concentrate right now? What if he was in the middle of tense negotiations or being told delicate information. As a matter of fact. This situation right here was delicate. One wrong move and Phantom might bolt. And he might not come along next time he found him. And even if he couldn’t get him to join the program, he wanted Phantom to know he had an ally in him. Someone to talk to, confide in, count on if he didn’t have anyone else.

“You do not turn off your com while going into a gunfight! It’s moronic to go in alone!”

Roman rolled his eyes. “I am fine, not a scratch on me.” He wasn’t going to mention that he wasn’t alone exactly. Phantom had never consented to BS and the rest of his team knowing.

“I’ll call you when I’m done here.” And this time he took the com out of his ear. BS could yell at him later.

“Sorry,” he sighed. “My mentor is… intense at times.” In a cold and distant way.

“Mentor?” Phantom asked.

“One of the people helping me practice my powers, test my limits. Comes with the program. It’s not just a babysit and a nice suit,” he joked casually.

“Oh…” Phantom’s tone was odd. It made Roman want to come closer and offer comfort. He didn’t though. They weren’t at that point yet. Not by a long shot.

“Listen, I admit I was sent by the chief. But I didn’t come here to recruit you. I wanted to thank you and tell you… If you ever need someone to talk to, to help you figure something out… I’d be more than happy to oblige. No need to tell me your name or anything about yourself,” he vowed as he reached out his hand. Phantom hesitated for a few moments before bridging the distance and offering his own.

Roman grinned and grabbed it for a firm shake. “I’ll see you next time,” he assured his fellow hero before letting go and turning around to finish his patrol.

Progress was made. Not much, but still.

He just might’ve made a new friend.

@cirishere @hestianerd1 @moonlightshow00 @naturallyunstablegamer @alias290 @meowthefluffy @frida0043 @angelic-cali @selenechris @theblackveilinreverse

End of this part meet Virgil and read his story.

Masterlist

#ts sides #sanders sides #Roman Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Prinxiety #Patton Sanders #Logan Sanders #Remus Sanders #Hero Au #Janus Sanders #fic

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needleanddead · 2 years

Note

🙉, 👖, 📎, 💧, ☁️, and 💚 for Cass please? Thank you!

🙉 HEAR-NO-EVIL - what is the worse thing your oc could hear from someone?

Anything equivalent to ‘you’re just like your father’. He’s also got a sore spot about being told he’s not good at things, or he’s not talented and the like; so much of his personhood is built on this One Thing That He’s Extremely Good At, so without it he doesn’t really know who he is. That’s part of the reason he spiralled so badly when he lost his eye and his vision was so intensely altered.

👖 JEANS - what is their go-to outfit?

This is probably cheating because I draw him in the same outfit for the sake of hashtag character design! But generally Cass is mostly well-dressed with a few eccentricities made for comfort. He’s almost always in a shirt, tie and waistcoat or blazer of some description, usually red. He wears jeans that are absolutely too tight, and sneakers instead of dress shoes for comfort (and to make himself seem a little more ‘salt of the earth’ and approachable!). He can do - and does do, very well - full on aristocratic elegance in velvet jackets and cravats and expensive shoes, haunts vintage shops for interesting pieces, but often comes back to the same things because he gets them messy so often. With paint, and with . . . other things.

📎 PAPERCLIP - a random fact.

Cass’s first kiss was in Venice with the son of a glassblower; he occasionally buys Venetian glass, when he sees it in antique stores, because it reminds him of those few hours that he managed to sneak away from his overbearing father and be a normal teenage boy in what he absolutely considered one of the most beautiful cities in the world.

💧 DROPLET - random angst headcanon

After the crash, the nurses told Cass that they tried to get in contact with both of his parents to let them know the situation. They told him, too, that they could not; which was not strictly true. As it happens, his father very much did answer the phone and heard about his son’s accident and said some . . . deeply upsetting things about Cass’s useless nature being even more pronounced now that he wouldn’t even be able to paint. What’s the point of a son who isn’t going to keep him well into his old age? The nurses thought that simply missing the call would be a kinder lie.

☁️ CLOUD - a soft headcanon.

He has a soft spot for hotel maids and service workers because they often did more work of the ‘raising’ kind for him than his parents ever did - he also has a soft spot (though he’d never admit it) for . . . grandmotherly types. He was raised til the age of six by a nanny (the same one who raised his mother, actually), and she was often the only source of warmth in a cold, loveless home. He doesn’t quite remember her perfectly, but he’s also never forgotten her.

💚 GREEN HEART - what things make your oc feel comforted? hugs, kisses, food?

Physical reminders of somebody who cares about him. Being right there. He’s had such a horrific lack of stability in his life that knowing someone is in it for the long haul really lodges in his chest and makes him feel some emotions he’d rather not put a name to. Hugs and kisses very much work; so does showing actual interest in the things he does beyond what financial worth they have.

#cass tag #ask game #thank u anon.... thinking of him recently

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angelicdestieldemon · 3 years

Text

Christmas Party (Day 6 of Christmas)

Request: [AU] where olivia takes noah to the nypd christmas party and meets barba for the first time

SHIP: Barson

Requests are open for the next 19 days, I write for Barson, Bangan, Barisi and potentially other Rafael Barba ships (even other Raúl Esparza characters too), just talk to me on asks or private messages.

NYPD Christmas Parties weren’t Olivia Benson’s thing, she would rather have a quiet night in a bar with her squad or be at home with Noah than have to make small talk with people who usually spend their days making her job harder than it needs to be.

But unfortunately, the invitation to the party was merely a formality, having been informed in advance by her superiors that she would be attending. The only upside of the night was that she could bring Noah, according to Carisi due to it being so close to Christmas a lot of those being forced to attend the party were struggling to get childcare, and the commissioner decided that the perfect way to prevent anyone getting too drunk was if there were children around.

While Olivia was dreading the whole evening, Noah was very excited. He liked to help his mum get dressed up when she went out with Amanda for a girl’s night and had a very good eye for fashion for a four-year-old. His colour choices always seemed a little out there, but Olivia couldn’t say no to her son and so would try on his picks anyway only to realise how well they actually worked.

However, as excited as Noah was to help his mother pick out a nice outfit for the party, he was most excited to go shopping for his own outfit. This was one of the first formal occasions Noah would get to experience that included more than their close-knit found family and if Olivia was getting to dress up nice and fancy, why shouldn’t Noah.

---

Noah wanted to match with his mum, who would be wearing a dark green dress, modest enough for a work event but still flattering if there were photos taken, and so they decided a little green suit would be nice.

The first few shops they tried Noah didn’t like anything, however on the way out of the third one, Noah accidentally ran into a tall, incredibly well-dressed woman with an expression that Olivia almost found intimidating. Olivia was about to step in and apologise for Noah, but her son was already way ahead of her.

“I’m very sorry, I didn’t mean to run into you, I just like the colour of your blazer,” Noah apologises, staring up at the woman before looking back at his mother. “Mama, that’s the sort of green I want to wear.”

The woman looks between them before walking over to Olivia, using a come-hither motion to draw Noah over with her.

“What sort of clothes are you looking for?” She asks both of them.

Before Olivia can respond, Noah speaks up, “Mama’s taking me to a party, and I want a suit to match her pretty dress.”

The woman smiles, this time when Olivia looks at her, her face looks almost fond rather than unnerving.

“There’s a store about a block over, they have a whole range of kids suits, alongside their men’s range, they get a lot of requests for matching father-son suits. I would advise trying there, they definitely have a better range than most.” At Olivia’s thankful but questioning look the woman elaborates, “A close friend of mine dragged me in there once, your son reminds me a lot of him.”

“Thank you for your help…” Olivia pauses realising she doesn’t even know the women’s name who has probably just saved their day from being a total waste of time.

“Rita Calhoun.” The woman answers, and Olivia can’t help the feeling as though she’s heard that name before.

“Olivia Benson and this is my son, Noah, again thank you for your help but considering the time we better get going,” Olivia says checking her watch, the shops would be shutting soon.

“Good luck, Noah. I hope you find what you’re looking for,” Rita says before leaving them.

“Come on sweet boy, we don’t have a lot of time, if we want to find this shop,” Olivia takes her son’s hand, and they leave the store to look for the one suggested by Rita.

---

Olivia is glad Noah bumped into Rita, they found the store quite easily and the range of suits for kids Noah’s age was far better than all the shops they had been in before.

When they left, they had bought a velvet green blazer, green fitted trousers, a green bow tie with white polka dots, a white long sleeve shirt and brown shoes and a belt.

As soon as they got home, Noah went to try on his new clothes right away, while Olivia sat on the couch and waited for the little fashion show he promised her. When he came out, he had a grin almost splitting his face, he looked so cute in the outfit.

“How do I look, mama?” He asked, doing a little twirl as Olivia would when trying on her dresses in front of him.

“My sweet boy, you look absolutely dashing.”

---

The whole week leading up to the party, Noah was very excitable to the point Olivia had to hide his outfit because he kept trying it on and she was worried he would get it dirty before the party. Thankfully though the wait was finally over, and Olivia and Noah were wearing matching colours as they walked into the venue hired out for the party.

Olivia was able to find her squad, Fin and Sonny drinking beer while Amanda sat with Jesse, her daughter, both of them with glasses of Coke.

“See, Carisi, even Noah dresses better than you do,” Olivia hears Amanda say to the lanky detective.

Sonny just smiles back at her, clearly amused by her joke. When he first arrived at Manhattan SVU Sonny had aterrible moustache and badly fitting clothes, but over the weeks he had been dressing better and better, and the moustache was gone. Whenever they asked about it though, he simply replied that he had become friends with a lawyer he used to know in Brooklyn who had finally stopped teasing him and given him some tips on how to improve his style.

Olivia found two drinks sitting at her seat, orange juice for Noah and a glass of wine for herself, Fin just smiles and winks at her and she thanks him with a nod and a smile. Noah sits in her lap while the various people have their speeches, and Olivia gives him most of her attention, listening for the odd thing that will apply to her Unit before helping Noah re-tie his bow time after he accidentally pulls it too hard and undoes it. After what felt like an age, the Christmas music was put on and Olivia could finally relax and chat with her friends.

It doesn’t take long for Noah and Jesse to get tired, after all, it is rather late, and they were able to convince their mums to have a few dances with them. When they inevitably fall asleep Fin offers to keep an eye on them from where they lie next to him on the booth seats, Olivia and Amanda’s big winter coats acting as blankets.

Liv finishes her glass of wine, when she offers to get the next round in, the others decline, like her, they are taking it slowly knowing the evening could turn out to be longer than any of them would prefer.

She takes her empty glass up to the bar with her and is able to find a gap in the crowd around the bar, without even looking at anyone else the barman immediately serves her. He’s young with a blinding smile and a cheeky look in his eyes and as attractive as he is, Olivia merely gives him a smile and tells him he’s far too young for her, his smile doesn’t drop but he nods his head in acceptance and moves on after pouring her another glass of wine.

“How young is too young?” She hears a voice say beside her, Olivia turns to face the stranger and has to take a second to regain her train of thought.

The man standing beside her is most likely younger than her if his question is anything to go by, but his job must be stressful as he looks closer to her age than he probably should be. His hair is dark with greys starting to grow in at his temples and it is more attractive on him than any of men in this room right now. His skin is a soft bronze making her assume he has some Latino background, his smile is more of a smirk, though the lines around his eyes suggest he does smile a lot more than he smirks. But it’s his eyes she can’t look away from, the lighting of the room making his green eyes look like a dark emerald, almost the colour of Noah’s blazer. Olivia takes a moment to get herself under control before answering him.

“Do we know each other?” She asks, refusing to answer his question.

“Would you like to? I certainly would.” He shoots back, moving a little closer but staying out of her personal space for the time being.

“Why’s that?” She asks, wondering what it is about her tonight that she is being hit on for the second time within five minutes.

“Because you look stunning in that dress,” He says and looks her up and down, it doesn’t feel like leer though, there’s heat in his eyes but she recognises desire rather than lust.

“What’s in it for me?” She responds, unconsciously flirting back.

He smirks again, an arrogant thing that Olivia should not find as attractive as she does. Stepping closer, this time he’s moved into her personal space and she doesn’t step back.

“Dance with me and find out.”

Olivia laughs at his forwardness, his blunt refusal to answer any of her questions should be a red flag but everything about him feels playful rather than dodgy.

“What if I have a husband?”

“I doubt that,” Olivia is insulted at that, but before she can say anything, he continues speaking. “Not because you aren’t beautiful, you are. But because you’re not wearing a wedding ring, and you’re buying your own drinks. If I was your husband, I wouldn’t be letting you out of my sight for even a second.” She no longer feels insulted, but he hasn’t completely saved himself.

“That sounds quite controlling,” she challenges, taking a sip of her wine, holding his eyes as she does.

“Please, I would quite happily let you have the reins,” the man leans in, leaving only a hairs width of space between them. “Just let me watch,” he finishes with a glance down to her lips.

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Rafael, and you?” He responds, she watches his tongue slide across his lips, wetting them.

“Olivia.”

“Dance with me, Olivia,” It’s not a question or a demand, a mere statement, she can either accept or ignore.

Despite her better judgement, she takes his hand, pulling him out onto the dance floor, a few other couples are dancing but mostly they’re just swaying side to side in a circle. That’s what she expects when his hand comes to rest on her waist but instead, he pulls her right against him before moving them to the beat. His movements are sure and well-executed, the dance is simple but every time he spins her away from him, he pulls her back gracefully again back into his hold. She begins to miss his warmth when they separate and before long, they slow right down until she is simply swaying in his arms. She can feel the heat through his fitted waistcoat, and she has to stop herself from clinging to him. Reminding herself that the only thing she knows about him is his name.

When the song ends, he leans in and whispers in her ear, his warm breath tickling the skin there.

“You really do look gorgeous in that dress, but I would like to get to know you better.”

“Is that another come on, Rafael?” She teases, his name sounding right on her tongue. “Are you just trying to get me into bed?”

His hand moves from her waist to her lower back, holding her against him.

“I would like nothing more than to see you in my bed. I can see it already,” He lifts her arms to loop around his neck and for some reason, she just goes with it. “Your hair would be a mess: loose and curling around you face and shoulders, you’d be naked, covered only by my silk sheets. You’d be breathless but satisfied, your every need and want would be met until you’re unable to take anymore… However, as much as I would enjoy getting to know you more intimately, Olivia, I also want to talk about you, your life, your experiences…” When he finishes, he leans back to look her in the eyes. “Interested?”

Olivia pauses, the imagery he provided affecting her greatly, but she refuses to just fall into his bed because of a few words that got her hot and bothered, she has Noah, she can’t just bring home or go home with any man that whispers seductively in her ear.

“Tell me plainly, are you looking for sex or a relationship?”

“I want to take you on a date, it doesn’t have to end in sex, but I wouldn’t mind if it did” he states, the desire in his eyes is still very clearly there but she believes him.

“I have a son, he comes first.”

“Do I need his blessing?” Rafael jokes.

“Yes.” She quips back, but the look in her eyes tells him she’s being mostly serious. “But he’s sleeping right now so I suggest you buy me a drink and sit with me, if you can’t survive my friends, you stand no chance with my son.” She says it like a challenge, an internal voice telling her he likes a challenge.

“Lead the way, Olivia.”

#Barson #rafael barba #Olivia Benson #Raul Esparza #mariska hartigay #Law & Order SVU #Rafael x olivia

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pnf-lover98 · 4 years

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ML - One Last Time

[A sequel to my fanfiction “Everything She Was”]

It was a quiet night in Paris, even though it surely couldn’t be defined peaceful by some of its inhabitants.

At two in the morning, Gabriel Agreste was still lying awake in his bed. He’d tossed and turned around, but sleep never seemed to come. When Emilie fell asleep next to him he stopped moving in order not to wake her up. Ever since that moment, he’d been staring to what he could make out of the chandelier on the ceiling, lost in his thoughts.

Eventually, he decided to try to get up and take a walk around the house.

Slowly, he moved his legs out of the bed and sat up. But just as he thought that he’d been moving soundlessly enough, Emilie’s voice called for him. “Gabriel?” The blonde woman turned on her side facing him, rubbing her eyes. “Where are you going, dear?”

Gabriel turned to his wife. “I can’t sleep, I’m going to take some fresh air,” he replied quietly. “Go back to your golden dreams, darling.” He then added, planting a kiss on her forehead.

As Gabriel wandered around for the empty halls of his mansion, he couldn’t help but notice how cold the house was despite the warm spring weather outside, and how deafening silence could actually be. He reached for Adrien’s bedroom’s door handle, about to check up on his son, but then he remembered that the boy was probably out with Ladybug patrolling the city.

Father and son had barely spoken to each other, since the day Gabriel defeated the heroes stealing their Miraculouses.

Gabriel sighed, stepping away from the door. If Adrien already hated him for being Hawkmoth and blamed him for Nathalie’s death, how would he react if he told him he no longer felt the same towards the same woman he’d almost destroyed Paris for?

The man walked on, directed to his studio. Maybe he could try to unwind by drawing.

Gabriel entered the room, his steps growing slower and heavier as he approached the painting that represented his wife. The wide canvas, along with a few other objects in the room, still showed signs of the damage that Gabriel inflicted a few days ago, when he’d turned the entire room upside down in an attack of anger.

The fashion designer sighed, then went to open the window. When he turned back, he almost had a heart attack. There was a woman in the room right in the spot where he’d just been standing. She was giving him her back, seemingly ignoring his presence as she intently stared at Emilie’s portrait.

“Excuse me?” Gabriel exclaimed, marching towards the intruder. “Who are you, and how did you break into-“ He tried to put an hand on her shoulder, but gasped in surprise as his fingers ran through her.

The woman turned around.

Gabriel had read many books about the paranormal, when he was a kid, and he’d grown familiar with the illustrations depicting the most common creatures.

He expected ghosts – if they were to exist – to look like those scary, pale creatures he’d read about, the ones with long, worn out nightgowns that float in the wind, and blank glowing eyes that stare deep into your soul.

But the woman in front of him looked nothing like those kinds of ghosts.

She wasn’t scary, she could have never been.

She was dressed in her everyday work outfit, complete from her dark gray blazer down to her usual heels. The only odd thing was her hair, now untied and flowing down along her shoulders.

And her eyes, although wide in surprise, were the same azure, deep ponds he’d found himself lost in quite a few times.

Gabriel took a few steps back, unable to believe his eyes. “N-N…Nathalie?” He stuttered, his heart pounding in fear.

But soon enough, the rational side of his brain ordered him to calm down. Ghosts didn’t exists; it was probably his grief and his sleep deprivation playing a trick on his mind. “Now I’m even hallucinating!” He exclaimed, as soon as he was able to catch his breath.

Nathalie shook her head, mouthing a ‘no’. The woman pointed to herself and then to the ground.

“Wait…You’re real?”

The ghost nodded, patting a hand on her chest and then pointing again to the ground. ‘I’m here.’

Gabriel slowly walked towards her, his mouth opening and closing as he tied to find words to say. “How?” he eventually whispered, astonished.

Nathalie shrugged. Judging by the look on her face, she couldn’t believe it either. She pointed to Gabriel, then to her eyes, and lastly to her chest with a questioning gaze in her eyes.

“What? What does it mean?” But all she did was repeating the same three movements, albeit a little slower.

She was looking at him expectantly, but he was still to shocked to fully comprehend what was happening. Something eventually clicked in Gabriel’s mind, as he tried to find the meaning behind her gestures. “You’re…asking me if I can see you?” He tried, and she nodded in reply. “I do, but…Why aren’t you speaking?”

‘Balance’, Nathalie replied, moving her hands up and down, one next to the other to emulate the pans of a scale.

She pointed to herself, and Gabriel got ready to try and guess once again her gestures: “You.” The ghost raised a finger to her lips “…were silent?”

Long ago, he had read something about equivalent punishments that awaited those who committed a sin in their lives. Poor Nathalie…

But if she’d lost her ability to speak as a punishment… “What was it that you didn’t say?”

The ghost repeated ‘I was silent’ and then pointed to a height next to her. “Short,” Gabriel tried to guess, but Nathalie shook her head. “Little?” This time he saw her nod. “Cat,” Gabriel then said when she brought her hands up to her head, to imitate cat ears.

Nathalie pointed again to herself, then moved to blow an imaginary something away from the palm of her hand.

Following her movements, Gabriel pieced her sentence back together. “You didn’t tell the little cat that you were Mayura. You didn’t tell Adrien!”

In a second round of guesses, Nathalie said ‘I lied to everyone.’

In a third round, after repeating ‘I didn’t tell’, Nathalie pointed to Gabriel. “You didn’t tell me…” The man spoke, following her clues. She pointed to herself “…that you”. She made the shape of a heart on her chest “…love”.

Gabriel gasped when the ghost pointed once again towards him. “…me!” He exclaimed surprised. “You didn’t tell me you loved me!”

Gabriel moved towards Nathalie, suddenly feeling the need to reach for her.

Maybe if she held him like she always did, that sudden, unbearable pain in his chest would somehow be eased. “Oh, Nath…!”

She reciprocated him!

Lord, had he only realized sooner!

But as Gabriel once again passed through her, his heart only sank more. The man took a step back, his eyes filling with tears. “Well, this is just unfortunate, isn’t it?” He admitted, shaking his head.

Nathalie hid in her shoulders and looked away sadly. The ghost shrugged, before turning again to face Mr. Agreste. ‘It’s ok, you love Emilie.’

“No, you don’t- you don’t understand!” Gabriel exclaimed. “I- I realized it a few days ago,” he explained, his voice shaking. The man pointed to himself, then made a shape of an heart with his hands and pointed to Nathalie. “I love you too!” He started to cry.

Nathalie was left gaping. As soon as she recovered from the unexpected news, however, the ghost quickly floated towards Gabriel, placing her hands on his cheeks even though he couldn’t feel her. She wanted to hold him, to comfort him and dry his tears, but without a tangible body or a voice to do so, the only thing she could do was staying close and wait for him to calm down.

When Gabriel fell to his knees, Nathalie knelt down at his side, wrapping her arms around his body. She held him and rubbed his back until, eventually, his sobs died out.

The man shifted position, crossing his legs. For the longest time, he couldn’t find anything to say, still lost in his misery. “How long will you stay?” He eventually spoke, his voice hoarse from crying.

‘Little,’ she replied.

“Would you mind if we…if we talked until you…?”

Nathalie smiled. ‘Of course not!’

The woman moved to sit across from him on the floor. ‘Go on,’ she prodded him.

“How long have you been…” Gabriel searched for the right word. “…haunting this house for?”

‘As early as I died, probably.’

“Why am I only able to see you now, then?”

Nathalie furrowed her brows, trying to wrap her mind around the mysterious mechanism behind the magic that was allowing them to meet one last time. ‘I don’t know,’ she shrugged.

Gabriel had come up with so many unanswered question, since the day she left; questions that added to the life-long ones about whether the afterlife actually existed and what could it be like.

But they had very little time on their hands, and he wasn’t going to waste it by talking about the occult.

It was like two friends who meet to catch up about their lives before one of them will take a train directed to somewhere far, never to be seen again.

Gabriel told Nathalie about how much Adrien missed her, and she replied that she already knew it, that she was moved by the boy’s affection, and that she was always there to watch over him as he slept. The ghost then wanted to know about Emilie, about how she was doing, and Gabriel told her about how media reacted to her return and about the latest movie she was acting in.

When they occasionally stumbled across a particularly difficult concept, or words that Nathalie found hard to translate in her improvised sign language, a shared laughter always followed the initial frustration.

They were joking and smiling together in spite of the surreal situation, their interactions flowing as naturally as they had always been.

“Have you met Claude, by chance?” Gabriel asked at some point.

Nathalie nodded, giggling.

“He’s… terrible.” Gabriel chuckled in turn, not a single hint of anger in his word. He was exhausted, tired out by the long sleepless night and by the time he’d spent crying.

“He’s a sweet soul, I know, but he keeps messing up my fabric orders, and my appointments, and…” He trailed off. Nathalie had reached out for him, placing a hand above his arm.

This time, she didn’t need any gesture to communicate; Gabriel could already read everything from the soft scolding gaze she was giving him. Gabriel couldn’t feel the way her thumb was caressing his forearm, but he remembered as clear as day the soothing sensation it gave him from the last time she’d done it.

‘You’re too hard on Claude. You have to give him time to learn!’

His heart ached again. “I miss you so much…”

‘I miss you too…!’ Nathalie smiled softly. The ghost motioned for him to wait, then started forming a series of shapes with her fingers.

“We…together…a long time. We will be together for a long time?” Gabriel tried to piece her sentence together. The ghost nodded, but then added an ‘almost’. “Oh. We’ll be together, eventually” Mr. Agreste tried again, suddenly understanding the meaning behind her words. “You mean when I’ll…”

Nathalie nodded again. “I promise,” he read from her next gesture.

She was smiling hopeful, probably picturing the life their souls were going to share, but in spite of her attempts to cheer him up, Gabriel still felt at his worse.

How could she still find it in herself to smile at him like that?

How could she still look at him with all of that love after he’d ruined her life – and her afterlife too, for the lies and crimes she never confessed all originated from his own secrets and actions?

“I messed up so badly, my dear Nath…” He said, holding a hand up next to her cheek. “I got it all wrong! Everything we fought so hard for was wrong and vain… I always had everything I needed right by my side, and I never even noticed it!” He felt his eyes starting to prickle once again. “And now you’re gone, Adrien hates me and I lost everything! How will I ever be able to spend a whole life without you?”

Nathalie frowned, hastily moving away from his touch. She moved a fist down to the palm of her other hand. She pointed to Gabriel, then motioned for him to repeat after her.

‘You’re strong, Gabriel! You have to find your peace!’ Nathalie exhorted him. ‘Please! Do it for Adrien and Emilie.’

Gabriel nodded silent, but she could still see the doubts lingering in his eyes. The woman placed a hand on his own. ‘Do it for me.’

This time, the man nodded a little more firmly, trying to smile to her. “And, please, no Miraculouses!” Nathalie admonished sternly, earning a tired laughter from Gabriel.

He had actually thought about it on multiple occasions, in the moments where his pain reached its highest peaks. But the plan never lasted long, because the thought of having to go through that never-ending battle all over again was exhausting beyond compare.

It wasn’t that Nathalie wasn’t worth it – she would have been worth anything in this world. It was the fact that he knew that it wasn’t going to work a second time. Hell, it hadn’t even worked in the first place!

Not even two kwamis that could grant him every wish imaginable were able to fix his mistakes.

He just had to accept the fact that he wasn’t destined to be happy, and that all of that mess was already a punishment for his evil actions.

The most cruel punishment of them all, he thought as he stared into Nathalie’s friendly blue eyes.

After some more moments, the woman stood up from the ground. “Is it already time for you to go?” Gabriel asked following her suit.

Nathalie nodded sadly. “I don’t want you to leave!” He replied, holding his hands next to her shoulders.

‘I’ll always be around, I promise,’ the ghost reassured him. ‘I’ll watch you from above,’ she then communicated, pointing to the ceiling. ‘And I’ll pray for you and your family.’

Then, Nathalie moved closer, wrapping Gabriel in what would have been a warm and tender hug. Fresh tears spilled from Gabriel’s eyes as he raised his arms to reciprocate the hug, but concretely hugging nothing but thin air.

The man closed his eyes, trying to imagine what it would have been like to actually have her in his arms.

When he opened them again, she was gone.

#miraculous ladybug #the tales of ladybug and cat noir #my ficts #ml fanfic #gabriel agreste #GabeNath #nathalie sancoeur #emilie agreste

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tired-college-student-writing · 4 years

Text

Beautiful Versions of Brokenness pt. 2

Summary: Marinette is different. There was no denying it, but none would have guessed that the true reason was soul deep

Continuation of Prompt: If you're into Black Butler, maybe something with that and Miraculous ladybug? Or Black Butler with Demon Bim? I just think you'd do a good job with the Black Butler characters.

Part 1

____________________________________________

Chat Noir reluctantly left so that Ladybug and Sebastian, shortly after, promised to meet up on the next patrol night so that they could properly discuss their unlikely reunion.

Instead of going home, Marinette leads them to the top of the Eiffel Tower. Parisians are used to seeing their heroine and a black figure at the top of the tower, no one would think twice if she arrived there. Sebastian follows as he always did.

“This isn’t my first life after Ciel then,” She hummed, once she arrived, deciding to deal with the first question on her mind.

“No,” Sebastian agreed, as her timer slowly beeped towards its end, “This is my 37th time meeting you since your contract was created. The 21st time you’ve awoken your Phantomhive memories.”

Her eyebrows rose, “it’s only been 130 years since Ciel died, how have I been reborn 37 times?”

The demon all but scoffed, “Really mistress? All these years with beings of heaven and hell toying with your life and you still believe we are playing by earthly rules?”

Marinette just glared, “You’re telling me Hell lacks linear time then? When I die, my soul just flies to any time period it pleases and becomes whichever child it can find?”

“Precisely,” Sebastian smirks, “There have only been a few rules your soul seems to follow, your eyes remain virtually unchanged, still the strikingly blue and purple hues they have been since our contract was sealed, your hair an inky black and your memories return within a year of the age you took your earldom, thirteen, or not at all. Other than that this is the eighteenth time you’ve taken a female form, fifth where you’ve been of mixed races, tenth of being Asian descent, you’ve been of African descent six times, middle eastern eight, Native American three times. You’ve been of peasantry or slavery six times, on three different continents. Though being enslaved has triggered your memories flawlessly every time and allowed for you to rise in the ranks of society with grace. Sixteen times you’ve been of noble birth in multiple different royal families across the globe. It’s been an adventure each time

“What about Lizzie?” She finally asked,” She never sold her soul, and yet Chat Noir is clearly my fiancé.”

Sebastian frowned, “To be quite honest, she’s never appeared before, or at the very least never awoken. Human souls are not supposed to be reincarnated so quickly, even by heaven’s terms we should not have run into Miss Elizabeth before the 30th century and I’ve never heard of the average reincarnation remembering their memories as vividly as Chat Noir did.”

“Who would know?”

The grimace was fleeting on the demon’s face but Marinette knew what he was getting at.

“The Grim Reapers,” She groaned, “Grell hanging around anywhere?”

“What makes you so certain that pest is still working off their debt?” Sebastian countered

Marinette glared, “Because I’ve seen a shockingly familiar red figure watching the Akuma battles before, but only the ones that might have high casualty counts if we had lost. Plus you’re always aggravated whenever I came back from those types of battles and she was the only one that I know that gets under your skin that badly. If she wasn’t so… open about her desires I would have loved to see her around more.”

The demon sighed, “Observant as always my lady. Grell Sutcliff, William T. Spears, and Ronald Knox have all been given special assignments to follow your reincarnated soul around as they are used to our unique brand of chaos. They are given time off when your soul is inactive, and this works counts as double time for their repayment… containing the destruction left in your wake.”

Marinette hummed, as her time finally wore out a Tikki appeared next to her.

“Sebastian,” Tikki greeted, cooly, drawing a wicked grin on the young girl’s face.

“Miss. Tikki,” He offered with his polite butler smile, the one Marinette knew meant he wasn’t happy, “A pleasure as always.”

“Oh, you’ve met then?” Marinette laughed with twisted glee “I haven’t seen you look so constipated since we had to do those Phoenix poses!”

She could practically hear the teeth grinding behind his forced smile, “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about Mistress, I think the reincarnation process has scrambled your mind.”

She hummed, cheeky grin not falling as she passed Tikki her emergency cookie, “Either way, we need to plan. Obviously, we can’t play the butler and Earl roles as we once did so we must figure out new roles that we can play, and create a fake hero identity for you if you plan on continuing to help out during Akuma battles.”

The smirk he gave showed off far too many teeth, but instead of unnerving her, it filled her with a sense of comfort, “Allow me to handle everything, mistress. What kind of demon would I be if I couldn’t manage a simple cover story and superhero outfit.”

________________________________________

Marinette awoke the next day to find it starting off horribly. Not only had she overslept without the ever-present tapping on her balcony door Sebastian normally did whenever she slept through her alarm, but as she was rushing she tore her blue contact, only to find it was the last one she had in stock, her new order not set to arrive until later in the week. She decided to give the demon a pass just this once since he most likely was still coming up with proper identification and dwellings for him to stay at now that she required him to be more than just a bird.

Looking in her closet she paused at her normal outfits, plink blossoms, pink jeans, and ballet flats. It just… felt wrong with her new memories of the Earl rattling around her head. She wasn’t unhappy being a woman in this life, still feeling as comfortable as ever in her own skin, but the overly modern and feminine dress just didn’t sit right with Ciel’s memories so fresh in her mind.

Instead, she pulled out a peter pan collared button-down shirt with the collar and large buttons navy against the cream of the rest of the shirt, a forest green western tie clasped in the front. She also pulled on a pair of straight-legged green pants and a navy blazer adding a tan pair of thick heeled ankle boots. For her final touch, she deep parted her hair, pinning it over her right eye and pulling it back into a bun securing a cream ribbon in a bow around the base of the bun once she was finished. Satisfied she grabbed her bag and took off at a run, bidding her parents goodbye as she attempted to make it class before the bell rang.

She arrived seconds late and found the room reorganized, seats had been moved and the open seat on her normal side of the room was right up next to Adrien. Well, she had to admit her previous actions around him had been overboard in retrospect, and while he was still cute but with Lizzie back in the picture it seemed almost like cheating on her old fianceé.

“Good morning, Adrian,” She greeted, choosing to stand in front of the desk instead of sitting down yet.

The blonde turned to her and perked up, “Marinette! I’m loving the new look, very Victorian esque”

“Thank you!” She laughed, “I felt like a change, You look great too!”

She could feel the eyebrows around the room go up as she smiled gently at the boy, but it was a good change of pace for him, his usual sneakers, jeans, and T-shirt had been swapped out for shiny dark brown dress shoes, a fitted pair of emerald green pants, with a crisp dark blue shirt tucked in. When he turned she could see a silver lace embroidery cutting a wavy path from his left shoulder to his right hip shimmer. He even wore a simple silver ear cuff to finish off the look.

“I picked it myself,” He preened under the positive attention, “Father usually is so strict about what I wear in public but he said I did well with this one!”

“Well, I have to agree,” She hummed, “You should experiment more often, I’d love to give you critiques now that we’re desk partners.”

“Girl what?” Alya finally interrupted, “That’s not your seat, you’re sitting in the back now.”

She could stop her smile from falling into a stony blank look as she turned around, “Excuse me? Who made that call?”

“Well,” Nino piped up with a slight weariness at her look, “She’s got hearing issues so we had to put her upfront, to make it work Ivan sat next to Mylène, Nate sat next to Alix, and she came up with the idea of moving me up here, so I could spend more time with my girlfriend.”

Marinette raised a brow making the majority of the room fidget, “Who exactly is she?”

Before any of them could answer Ms. Bustier opened the door and started her normal classroom announcements, “Good morning, students. I'm sure you've all heard by now, but Lila's home from her trip to Achu and she's back in school with us again.”

The Italian girl all, but bounced into the room to greet everyone, receiving a warm answer back as Marinette’s mouth thinned.

The fox paid her little mind as she pretended to gasp in surprise at the empty seat next to Adrian and started gushing, “Oh, a seat in the front row! You all remembered my hearing issue! You're such sweethearts, all of you!”

Marinette tilted her head, “I didn’t realize you had a hearing issue, Lila.”

Green eyes flashed towards her as she painted on a self-conscious smile, “Oh Yes, I suffer from tinnitus, a constant ringing in my left ear. I've had it ever since the sound of an airplane engine burst my eardrum on the runaway when I was saving Jagged Stone's lost kitten,”

“Really?” Marinette questioned with a raised brow, “Well I am sorry to hear that, but I would like to know why your disability is ranking above my own.”

Lila froze as Bustier paled eyes widening with realization. The room grew silent before Kim slapped the desk, “Oh my god, we forgot Marinette can’t see!”

She laughed, shaking her head, “I’m not blind Kim,”

He waved her off, “You know what I mean.”

Nino groaned, slinking down, “You aren’t even wearing your contacts today!”

“I ripped one this morning,” She sighed in explanation, “My replacements aren’t coming until Wednesday. So I really can’t sit in the back of the room even if I wanted to.”

Alya’s face scrunched, “I’m missing something,”

Marinette stared up at her unblinkingly, “I have a severe vision problem that causes me issues with depth perception and distance, especially if I’m not wearing my contacts. As noted by my doctor I need to be sitting within the first two rows of the classroom, and to have a seat partner is willing to give me notes that I may have missed if my vision acts up. It has been on file since I was six years old.”

“Ivan and I can move to the back,” Mylene offered quickly, “I’m sorry for forgetting Marinette!”

She offered a soft smile, “It really is no issue, as long as it gets sorted. While I must admit I believe the origin of Lila’s disability is fabricated, I am sympathetic to her for having said disability, but I refuse to not have my accommodations met just for someone else’s to be met.”

“Fabricated!” Lila gasped tears welling in her eyes, “How mean! You don’t like me, do you! You’re trying to make me look bad and have a hard time due to my disability!”

The ice that entered Marinette’s eye before she turned to the Italian girl sent a shiver down the class's spine, causing Chloe to shrink back and Adrian to sit up stick straight. Marinette felt an odd calm fall over her as the Phantomhive came out to play.

“You claim that you received hearing damage from being too close to an airplane because you ran onto an active runway to save Jagged Stone’s kitten from a jet preparing to take off,” Marinette repeated slowly, “ Not only does Jagged Stone despise cats, but he’s despised them since he was a child after one attacked and killed his parakeet, Juniper. This is an easy fact to look up as he’s mentioned it several times in multiple interviews. The pet he currently owns and has owned for almost twenty years now, is Fang, a freshwater crocodile that Jagged hatched himself. No one is stupid enough to forget the animal they heroically saved from a vehicle that’s accelerating an average of 32 meters per second squared, wasn’t even a mammal when I know that Fang weighs almost 200kg.”

Lila tried to break in but Marinette just straightened her back, and crossed her leg at the knee before continuing, “Furthermore, no airport in this day and age would allow for a teenage girl to make it to the runways where a plane was taking off without being tackled by security, nor do I believe that your mother, a diplomat, would be moronic enough to allow you to be placed in that much danger. If it did happen there would no doubt be multiple stories run by the media about it, internationally so since Jagged Stone is such a big name and you are the daughter of a diplomat, this would not be the first we would be hearing it.”

Marinette grimaced as she moved onto the next point, not even paying mind to the sputtering Lila was doing, “Based on these facts I’m going to assume the claims that he wrote a personal song for you that have been bouncing around are also false as if they’re not it does not paint a good picture that a famous man in his forties is writing and dedicating songs for you, a young teen fan. If these accusations were true, I'd be forced to believe that Jagged Stone is a hebephile or at the very least grooming you.”

Marinette simply crossed her arms as the room grew deathly silent, “Lastly, nothing suggests that sitting closer to the front of the room helps tinnitus, as the persistent ringing would not change and make little difference in a room this small. Most students with tinnitus require the student being given the option to move to a quieter location if the condition is triggered during class, groups the student is working with being given the option to move to a different area in case group work gets too loud during group activities and being placed near a low-level sound, such a small fan, computer, a heating element, or an open window, as complete silence can irritate the issue. I did enough research when helping Aurora fight for proper accommodations made in her own classroom on the subject to know that much. Or as by the way you are dressed and the fact you claim to have spent the last few months traveling the world, your family clearly has money so buying one of the many options of hearing aid out that that has been developed to assist and almost eliminate tinnitus would be overly easy. They sell them for around 270€, fairly cheap for accommodation products, and if your family truly took you on trips across the globe then you can’t convince me they don’t love you enough to shell out a few hundred euros to make your life easier. So tell me again why I’m making a big deal about making sure my own disability is taken care of?”

Lila sputtered, before bursting into tears, “I was too embarrassed to tell you the real reason! I didn’t want you guys to think less of me for taking a break with Prince Ali to go see a concert, I didn’t mean to get so close to the amps but… the hearing loss is so new I’m still adjusting”

Marinette glared at her, “Save the tears. Lies are pathetic tools to use and earn you no lasting loyalty, and to accuse someone of being ableist for questioning the origin of your disability, not even the disability itself is vile. Not a single person in this room would have been upset at you if you told the truth instead of tried to force the issue of fake heroics.”

She sniffled, “I’m sorry Marinette, I didn’t mean to make accusations about you or your character. I’m still on edge from the whole situation…”

Marinette let her glare drop and gave a cool, “It’s forgiven this time, now can we please figure out the seating situation?”

“Well,” the teacher stepped in, “Since Adrian agreed to be Lila’s tutor to help her catch up-”

“Actually, Miss Bustier,” Adrian raised his hand sheepishly, “I was going to bring it up with you later in private, but I really don’t think I’d be a good option to tutor Lila given how full and sporadic my schedule is already, I really would hate for her to fall enough further behind.”

“Oh crap,” Alix swore, “We didn’t even think of that when Lila suggested you!”

Adrian just gave a slight shrug, eyes not looking up from his desk, “It’s okay, I do want to help out the class as much as possible, I feel bad never being able to help out with anything after school.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Kim brushed off, “We get your dad is really on you about everything, we’ll just have to find stuff you can do in class instead!”

“Maybe,” Mylene squirmed a little in her seat as everyone turned to face her, “I mean just a suggestion… but maybe Adrian could be Marinette’s seat partner and help her take notes. You rarely miss actual class time for your activities and this way you’re helping out without committing to any extra time that your dad might not let you come for.”

Bustier clapped, a blinding smile on her face, completely missing how Lila’s face had twisted into an angry mask, “Excellent idea! Let’s all find new seats again, Marinette and Adrian stick together in the first two rows, Lila why don’t you sit on the left side of the classroom by the windows to see if that helps your tinnitus for now. I’ll call your mother in for a proper evaluation over the next few days and we’ll find a proper course to deal with your disability. If someone would like to volunteer to be Lila’s primary tutor please take the seat next to her. Everyone else please fill in!”

Slowly the room began shifting once again. Adrien and Marinette simply switched seats to allow her to better see the room as Alya, Nino, Chloe, Sabrina, Rose, Juleka, and Nathaniel stayed in their same seats. Ivan and Mylene did move to the back row together as Max broke away from Kim to sit in the second row next to where Lila ended up and Alix slid across the aisle to take his old spot.

Alya was still looking at Marinette as if she had three heads, “Girl, what on earth was that? You’re like sunshine personified, but you just tore Lila apart like she was tissue paper.”

Nino huffed a slight laugh, “Keep forgetting you’ve only been in the class for a year, babe. You’ve never seen a Marinette takedown before.”

Marinette smiled, “Do not lie and do not do anything that might have permanent consequences. If they can not follow those two simple objectives in my presence then I will gladly set them straight. Lila not only lied but accused me of being a bigot, I will not tolerate slander.”

“Well I think it was badass,” Adrian commented, causing her to smirk wickedly.

“Thank you. It’s always nice to know my skills are appreciated.”

“Oh do you need any notes from the last few days,” Adrian asked suddenly, sliding his notebook between them as the lesson started.

She gazed down idly, “Not that I can think of but thank-”

Marinette had to keep her eyes from bulging as her words faded off, because in the middle of the page, squished between two facts about the Roman empire stood a simple sentence in perfect English.

I didn’t think I would see you until tonight, Ciel.

“How on earth were we this blind,” Marinette mumbled in English, earning a laugh from his once betrothed.

“Excuse me?”

The pairs heads snap towards the door as a worryingly familiar voice sounds through the room.

There in the doorway was a tall teen with shaggy raven hair as he sheepishly held out a paper towards the teacher, “Are you, Miss. Bustier? There seemed to be a mix up with my transfer papers. Mr. Damocles told me just to head down and you should have all of my forms by tomorrow, but he didn’t want to prevent me from starting today as planned.”

“Oh I hadn’t realized I was getting a new student today,” She apologized, taking the paper and skimming it briefly before turning to the room, “Class it looks like we’re getting another new face today! I want you all to welcome him with open arms! This is-”

He was shorter, a little lankier and with a rounder face then they typically saw him, looking every bit the fourteen year old he was in no doubt playing, but there was no doubt who it was.

“Sebastian,” The demon introduced, mirth dancing in those burgundy depths as he grinned up at the reincarnated duo, “Sebastian Michaelis. I look forward to joining your class.”

___________________________________

Tag List: @lividdreams9

#miraculous ladybug #black butler #kuroshitsuji #marinette dupain cheng #sebastian michaelis #Adrian agreste #miraculous class #lila rossi is the worst #lila rossi #lila rossi takedown #reincarnated au

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sunsetcurve · 4 years

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THE POST FINALE HENRY DANGER OPINIONS TAG:

thank you for the tag @chenryhart , @ginger--binger , and @henryhearts ! (i used eliza’s version because it had more questions lol)

Who was your overall favourite member of Team Danger and why? i will never be able to decide between charlotte and henry (it’s called being bisexual). i relate to charlotte a lot, and she’s a role model for me; she’s smart, she’s bold, she knows what she wants and i really love her for it. henry, on the other hand—there are moments when i’ve disliked him but i’ve watched him grow up, i’ve watched him be a hero for so long and i do still admire him a lot. he’s brave and loyal and he cares so much about people, like i’ll honestly just be soft for him forever.

Who was your favourite non-team danger character and why? gonna have to go with bose and mika (who count, right?) because they’re both so pure and enthusiastic and i can’t wait to see more of them

Who was your favourite villain and why? definitely twitler. i think he was the only villain that had actual motivation, and he was definitely the least cringey of all of them. he set up high stakes and challenged team danger a lot.

What were your top five favourite Henry Danger episodes of all time and why? ooh, good one. okay i think the finale is my all-time favorite. it just really was the culmination of the core of this show and there were so many amazing moments between all the characters. the actors and writers delivered so hard. second would have to be back to the danger because that episode was solid start to finish. i love the high-stakes episodes, and the time travel was a really cool aspect. third would probably be the three-parter, because again, i love the high stakes episodes, and that one really brought it. fourth would be broken armed and dangerous because it was completely hilarious. and fifth would probably have to be either double o danger, because i loved getting to see them all dressed up and undercover and joss moss was awesome, or i dream of danger because it was charlotte centric and also chenry. honorable mention to danger games entirely because of that scene where all four game shakers fall in love with henry at once.

What were your top five least favourite Henry Danger episodes of all time and why? not a fan of henry’s birthday because i can’t watch it without getting incredibly pissed; like it’s a well-made episode i just get really upset while watching it. i hated man of the house because the whole ray trying to get with henry’s mom made me suuuper uncomfortable. i did not like one henry three girls because the cheating plot was not it for me, or sick and wired for the same reason as henry’s birthday, and also because that was definitely the episode where dad!ray started to disappear. and captain mom because...nope.

What was your favourite running gag and why? oh god i have so many that i made a full post about this. the hmm thing was awesome, especially the fact that they acknowledged it. i also love the “piper has a license—established” joke

What was your favourite one-off throw away gag and why? gonna steal @henryhearts answer here and say the cat universe that respected charlotte; also bringing back the bro song from the musical that one time.

What episode, which character and which duo made you laugh the most? episode would definitely be broken armed and dangerous. laugh after laugh. the arm fashion show? the part where henry’s like “i’m plum-tuckered!”? the sign language interpreter? peak. character would be henry because i LOVE the way he reacts to stuff, like when he does his little *hand clasp* “there is something wrong with you” or like “dude, dude, dude, dude, dude—”. duo would probably be ray and henry because bose was right, their banter is hilarious.

What episode, which character and which duo made you the most emotional? episode would be the finale, and i feel like i don’t have to explain myself there. character would also be henry, like, the whole “i was thirteen!” thing and the fact that he’s given so much to this makes me want to cry sometimes. duo would be chenry because they’ve been together since the beginning and i have way too many feelings about them.

How would you rank each season from 1 to 5, one being the best and five being the worst? this is difficult, because i think season 5 is my favorite overall because of it had so many solid episodes and high stakes and good plots, but there were also sooo many things i didn’t like. still! i think it takes the top spot. after that would be season 2, just because it was really fun and fresh and in that stage where they’d started to figure things out as a show but weren’t getting cocky just yet. then probably season 3, then 1, then 4, because that season didn’t really have anything that stood out to me besides back to the danger.

Who was your favourite duo in the show (romantic or non-romantic)? chenry, but hensper and chasper were both very close seconds

What was your favourite Henry and Ray moment/episode? blimp scene and i don’t think it’s necessary for me to elaborate

What was your favourite Chenry moment/episode? toss up between the lion scene in idod and the time jerker because of “this is for you, char” and the hug at the end

What was your favourite Hensper moment/episode? when jasper found out oh my god. that was SO good. also love muffin and “as henry’s best friend...and soulmate”

What was your favourite Chensper moment/episode? oh god The Scene in the finale when henry is telling char to get out of there and she’s not leaving him and jasper has to carry her out and it just shows how much they all care for each other. and the fact that they all went to dystopia together!

If you could go back and change one element of the show, what would it be? RESPECT. CHARLOTTE. PERIOD. (i would change a lot of ray’s character as a whole, especially season 4/5 tbh)

If you could say one thing to each main character in the pilot, what would it be? i would tell the trio to stick together, appreciate each other, and don’t forget to be kids. i would tell ray not to bring a 13 year old kid who doesn’t have powers into this.

If you could say one thing to each main character in the finale, what would it be? i’m proud of you

Were you satisfied with the finale? What part was your favourite and what part was your least favourite? yes. i think overall there are always going to be things they could have handled better. but i’m happy with the way it ended. i think it’s fitting and wonderful and i felt good. favorite part would be the entire part in the finale with henry arguing with ray about who’s going to go down and later with char and jasper for them to leave. partially because i’m a glutton for angst, but also because the actors put so much into it and it was a real display of emotion and feels, and it showed henry’s selflessness and heroic nature so plainly. least favorite was the fact that char never got an apology from ray.

What would your ideal Henry danger spin off look like? dystopia!!!!!!!! the trio fighting crime in dystopia but it’s pg-13 and also they’re falling in love. also they sometimes come back to visit ray and mentor the danger force kids.

Where do you personally see the characters 10 years from now? What are they doing, who are they with, where are they in their lives - what do you think happened to them? Most importantly, are they happy? i think the trio is going to be living and fighting crime together for a while. char runs a charity on the side, jasper does photography, and henry is a botanist. but they’re first and foremost a team. piper runs a media company and ray and schwoz are being parents to the DF kids. they all still have thanksgivings together and yes, they’re all very happy.

What was your favourite part of the show and why did it initially draw you in? so i watched the thundermans right before this, and the whole reason i got into it was because i love anything superhero related but i wanted something lighthearted instead of my usual gritty dctv shows. i stayed for the humor and because the kids were cute, and yeah i did develop a crush on henry as the seasons went on. sue me.

What was your favourite part of the fandom and why did it initially draw you in? the people are so! freaking! supportive! i made some really amazing friends through this fandom, and everyone is sooo talented and kind and just unproblematic as hell. i love it.

Describe your overall emotions/feelings regarding the show being over and the show in general, looking back on it as a whole, with one quote from the show. the iconic “feels good”

If you were able to add one scene in the finale, what would you add? charlotte getting a goddamn apology and some recognition. also i would’ve liked to see the in-between of the blimp crash and the funeral, aka henry reuniting with ray, jasper, and char after they all thought he was dead

Favorite outfit/hair style? i LOVED the trio’s looks in the epilogue. char’s outfits every single episode? their looks in double o danger. piper and henry’s sister twister outfits were also very cute. for each character: i like char’s braids, henry with the curly hair he had in the finale, jasper in a crop top, ray’s bangs and blazer, and that one time schwoz was in a leotard and tutu.

Least favorite character? mine would be jake hart, and i feel like that’s another one of those things that doesn’t need an explanation

one twist: add one question at the end for the next person to answer! tag at least two people so this spreads around!

i’m tagging @bitchmilsky @cactus-con @rorythevambire @bijerbear @mychenrymadness and anyone else who wants to do it!

#henry danger #hd spoilers #hd tag game #hd

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michelles-garden-of-evil · 4 years

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Episode 30 Review: The Executive Meddling Begins?

{ YouTube: 1 | 2 }

{ Full Synopses/Recaps: Debby Graham | Bryan Gruszka }

{ Screencaps }

Welcome to my Garden of Evil, where today we end one era of the history of Strange Paradise and begin a new one: the period of the “Lost Episode” summaries, when the soap opera’s producers forced headwriter Ian Martin to rewrite much of his original story, discarding many subplots and planned plot twists and negating the original episode synopses that had already been sent to newspapers throughout North America. The known published synopses for this episode are as follows:

"Vangie, the voodoo priestess, uses her conjurer's powers to weaken the evil spell which possesses Jean Paul and to plant the suggestion that she come to his private island."[1]

"A secret potion draws Jean Paul to a voodoo priestess."[2]

According to Curt Ladnier’s blog, this is the first episode known to have been altered after the synopses were sent out, but, before starting this review, I had my doubts. Certainly, comparison between the summaries and the aired episodes show clear evidence of script changes by Episode 32, but there was enough ambiguity in certain events in this episode for me to question if this one was even rewritten in the first place. So, without further ado, let’s run a fine-toothed comb through the aired version of Episode 30 and see if we can find conclusive evidence of rewriting.

The episode begins with Holly being pushed down the staircase in the Great Hall. She screams loudly and Jean Paul and Reverend Matt Dawson come rushing to her aid. While they help her over to the couch, she turns to Matt and accuses him of deliberately pushing her. Jean Paul (who is wearing an unusual but fetching ensemble with a dark blazer and off-white pants) is also suspicious of him, because, according to him, the Reverend was there when she got pushed. Handsome devil Jacques, of course, comments:

An indication that Jacques did it, or just commenting on the situation?

For some reason, Jean Paul doesn’t blame Jacques this time, but instead Matt, who was there (as was Jacques, most likely) and who has the possible motive of revenge for rejecting his romantic advances (not applicable, but Jacques does have the motive of liking murder). Here is the conversation between them and my commentary:

Matt: "Mr. Desmond, I resent your insinuation. Why should I want to harm Holly?" Jean Paul: "Or kill her?" Matt: "You can't be serious." Holly: "Whoever pushed me was." Matt: "But I followed you down here to help you, not to hurt you." Jean Paul: "Or to have her." [Is he implying that he thinks Matt wants to take advantage of her?] Matt: "Are you serious?" Jean Paul: "Your adoration is about as obvious as her pretty face." [And your pretty...everything.]

Matt: *getting pissed at Jean Paul* "I have had about all the insinuations I can take! All right, I do care about her--deeply."

Matt: *to Holly* "Now, can't you believe that I'm the last one who would want to harm you?" Holly: "You're the first, because I don't care for you!"

Jean Paul tells Reverend Stalker to leave Holly alone "or you'll have me to answer to," so the disgruntled padre flounces. But on his way out, he has some accusations of his own:

ROFL at Matt’s delivery of this line.

Matt reveals that he still hasn’t grasped the concept of the detained guest.

So now you believe in demons? What made you change your mind?

The dialogue in this episode so far is heavy with exposition as usual, but it feels different this time. Usually, the exposition takes the form of one character telling another directly about the events and revelations from past episodes, but this time it's structured differently, as a two-way expository dialogue rather than a speech with questions and reactions from the listener. It still doesn't feel entirely natural--it still has the feel of exposition dialogue--but it's a different format.

I should also note that, according to Bryan Gruszka of StrangeParadise.net, the script reveals that neither Matt nor Jacques pushed her. The attacker’s name is a spoiler in spite of the fact that Martin never got to reveal that they were responsible, so I shall link to the Week 6 trivia page here for anyone who is interested.

Jean Paul has a possession headache, but no funny headache faces this time.

Jacques leaves the portrait (which decided to disappear this episode) and mocks Matt for believing in him--which, I should note, is a change from last episode, where the Reverend firmly denied believing in devils and called them superstition. He calls Matt's belief in him "a sad testimony to the belief in which he was schooled"--again, even though Matt actually didn't believe in devils until apparently the beginning of this episode. Already this is a break in continuity, which does not necessarily indicate someone tampering with the established canon, but is suggestive of it nonetheless. Of course, that’s assuming that it isn’t just an error, which it might be. (Remember that Martin can’t decide whether or not Raxl knows Jean Paul is possessed!)

What's with this lighting effect? Did the director decide that Jacques looked too sexy under normal lighting, so they decided to use underlighting to make him look scarier and less hot? Because the effect is not scary. It makes him look like a Muppet, and Muppets are not scary.

Jacques is getting better at impersonating Jean Paul, as evidenced by this deeply ironic part where he comforts Holly. “Have no fear, cherie,” he says, “I will protect you.”

Meanwhile in the Not-So-Hidden Temple, Vangie gives Raxl a bottle of some potion to slip Jean Paul, which she tells her "is not to kill, but to prevent more killing. It is a Conjure brew to free his mind to make it more responsive to mine." This must be what the Lost Episode summaries are referring to! She doesn’t outright state in this scene that she wants Jean Paul to bring her to Maljardin by boat, but she says that’s what she wants in the episode before this one, so anyone who has seen Episode 29 would already know that.

An interesting detail not mentioned on the trivia page: before parting, Vangie asks Raxl, daughter of the Priestess of the Serpent, to pray to her mother.

Vangie teleports/floats back to the main island, which frightens Quito until Raxl assures him that “the Conjure Woman has found her way home.” They leave the temple and begin traveling down the long tunnel back to the crypt. Unbeknownst to them, Reverend Dawson is there, searching the crypt wall for the Not-So-Hidden Door:

Come on, Matt! It’s not at all hard to find!

He finds it and pushes on the door just as Quito starts pulling it open. When Quito grabs him, both of their expressions are priceless:

I can’t decide whose expression is funnier.

“I was not trespassing in your sacred temple, Raxl!” he cries, then insists that he was only down there “to find a means of saving your master.”

“You knew of the temple because I showed you, a man of your-”

“I have not betrayed its sanctity,” he interrupts, even though he was clearly trying to find it so he could search it for the poison. The implication is that, if he visited without Raxl and Quito’s permission, he would betray the temple’s sanctity. He tells her about the missing cyanide, she tells him about the missing conjure doll and silver pin, and then she assures him that neither Jean Paul nor Jacques could have hidden either in the temple because neither know about it.

Up in the Great Hall, THE DEVIL JACQUES ELOI DES MONDES is relaxing pompously when Raxl and Quito enter. He orders Quito to prepare to sail to the main island, which leads Raxl to declare, perhaps over-confidently, “The Conjure Woman got to him even without [the potion]!” This negates the second summary which explicitly indicates the potion as the means of “draw[ing] Jean Paul to [Vangie],” but not the first. Also, what makes Raxl think that this is evidence of Vangie’s influence over him? Apparently Jacques choosing to go to the island out of his own free will isn’t a possibility.

Matt asks if he can return to the main island, but Jacques refuses, declaring that “today is a rather special trip for a lady and myself,” referring to his deliciously evil girlfriend Elizabeth Marshall. The Reverend responds by asking if he trusts her not to reveal the secret of Erica’s death, which Jacques uses as yet another opportunity to make Jean Paul look like a murderer by saying, “There is no one dead here--that I don’t pronounce!” And then he threatens him again:

Someone’s on Jacques’ list of people to kill!

We next see Jacques strutting into the French Leave Café wearing a pair of huge round sunglasses over his eyes. Ironically, the demon who is normally so fond of black clothing has changed into Jean Paul’s off-white suit jacket, although he retains the same red shirt and red-and-black striped tie. I’m thinking that Jacques picked out both outfits and changed before heading out because he just felt like playing dress-up that day. Typical 17th-century fop, just with more modern clothes.

Jacques’ new outfit.

Gold-digger Elizabeth clinging to Jacques as though she’s worried that Vangie will try stealing him from her. Makes me wonder what her 17th-century counterpart’s relationship was to Vangie.

What, no joke about how you “still can’t stand the heat?” I’m shocked!

Even on a date in a public place, he tries to make Jean Paul appear interested in committing murder. He asks Elizabeth how much her daughter’s inheritance is, in case she dies, and then gleefully reminds her of her accident earlier that day!

Back on Maljardin, Quito returns from the main island by himself. While Holly is sipping some of Raxl’s tea (in the literal sense only, unfortunately), he walks up to her holding a shiny stone and offers it to her. She takes it only reluctantly, which reminds me of another Lost Episode summary, this one for Episode 33:

Source: Cleveland Plain Dealer (October 24, 1969).

Quito doesn’t show any signs in this episode of being undead, but he does give Holly a sparkling stone, with little reaction from her. Later in this episode (not in the aired version of Episode 33), Holly gives the stone back to Quito despite his insistence that she keep it, which brings him to tears when he is alone with Raxl towards the end. These events suggest a rewrite more strongly than the original summaries at the top of this page do, because the newspaper summary for Episode 33 clearly indicates that these events were originally slated to happen three episodes later, but moved to this one during rewrites.

What about Quito? It certainly appears that Holly’s won Quito’s heart.

Meanwhile at the French Leave Café, Vangie approaches Jacques and Elizabeth and insists on reading their fortunes, although Elizabeth does not want to hear it. She lays the “King of Scepters” (or, rather, the King of Swords--see the screencap at the beginning of this entry) on their table and Jacques freaks out, enough apparently to de-possess Jean Paul:

Hooray! A headache face!

So did Vangie’s Tarot card make Jacques de-possess him? Or was it something else?

At the end of the episode, Jean Paul invites Vangie to Maljardin himself out of a desire to contact Erica. Much like Jacques’ decision to visit the main island earlier this episode, it comes across as something Jean Paul would decide to do of his own accord, without magical influences. Therefore, I think that we can say that Ian Martin’s original idea for Vangie to use her powers to convince him to take her to the island was indeed scrapped--and that was probably a good thing, because this feels more natural.

The episode ends ominously, with Jean Paul willingly putting everyone’s life on the line to contact Erica’s spirit. Not so different from Jacques wanting to kill everyone.

In conclusion, Episode 30 shows distinct signs of having been rewritten since the release of the Lost Episode summaries. Not only did Vangie’s means of allegedly convincing Jacques to visit the main island and Jean Paul’s motivation for bringing Vangie to Maljardin change, but events originally planned for Episode 33 were moved to this one. There are other minor details that, too, suggest a rewrite: the different mode of exposition and Jacques’ lack of devil/Hell jokes where Martin would have likely inserted them just a week ago. The episode feels different from the earlier Week 6 episodes, but not enough to suggest a new writer.

Coming up next: The last Bad Subtitle Special until the end of Week 8, followed by a review of Episode 31. A mysterious force is tampering with the cryonics capsule, while Alison uncovers even more clues to the mysteries surrounding Erica.

{ <- Previous: Episode 29 || Next: Episode 31 -> }

Notes

[1] Fitchburg Sentinel, October 24, 1969.

[2] San Mateo Times, October 17, 1969.

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